This Myth Of Life

Satish Verma

Today I am alone― 
with myself, 
not even with wet eyes. 
A corona intends to go into flames. 

Stars unaligned― 
where was the need of the god 
to commit a failure? 
The ruins must stay for ever. 

Hurtling towards the sun 
you wanted to know― why black scorpions 
live in the flares of light? 

Nothingness bites you. The 
despair hurts, because you wanted 
the freedom to die without 
inventing the Deity. 

My guilt should not be identified.