Clean Hands

Satish Verma

Deeply troubled inside, 
I become silent 
like a quiet, serene sea. 

Impatience. It 
has erupted again in my 
hardened mood. 

Playing a gamble 
without a dice. An unmasked 
body trembles. 

I will ask my 
river goddess one day― 
where was my moon? 

Exploding in its 
face, the enigma had never 
any physical. 

Making things easier for you. 
I stand in the moment of truth 
on flames.