Taking A Form

Satish Verma

Like a falcon 
you dive with a notched nose. 
There was an element 
of absurd in your style. 

Crushed under snow, 
I would search my lost 
shoes. The spirit to move on 
wakes me up again. 

The pursuit of perfect 
truth in jungle of fake 
excuses. I was wary 
of animal grins. 

Thugs, they have become 
the stewards. Life was mystery. 
Death sorts out the secret 
of undying passions.