Losing Oneself

Satish Verma

What would you give 
when I ask for nothing? 

A mysterious lineage 
of the soul. It has no sequence, 
no flesh, no body. 
I was heading towards the edge. 

Did you know the perfect 
no home? It has no crumbling walls, 
no hurting windows. The gray roof of sky? 

The earth, the damaging 
winds. An hour of awareness 
in wait. You start 
exploring jinxed mind, 

hearing voices, but no words.