Always Self-Deception

Satish Verma

You collapsed― 
on the stairs in frenzy 
falling into a debt trap. 
The moon was asking back his pain. 

This was a naked aggression. 
Kitchen was not ready for roots 
and flowers and footprints 
of staggering price of being alive. 

Riding in a Humvee, the 
rhetoric fails. The lies become 
spiteful. Your arms holding 
a wavering testament. 

Religion of sending 
a young legate of death, to veiled 
untouchables, to spread 
the glitter of bones and red meat. 

A gift of asking to become 
blind, nothing less.