Replying To Myself

Satish Verma

Roping in, as if― 
all my defeats, creating― 
a tiara for a royal fall. 

Being hurled 
towards the enormous black hole, 
chased by the sun. 

Like an old thinker 
I was putting myself in a 
violent comet's pathway. 

Not being a whole religion 
why did I worship a walking stone? 

How would I communicate 
with my destiny? 
I was not born a shining star. 

An individual becomes, 
an androgyne, unsure 
to name the gender. 

I am going to honour the talent.