A Poetic Version

Satish Verma

You were at it again. 
Ignoring the truth 
of lies! 

Embodiment suffers 
when you break 
the sacred threads of perception. 

Dried up tears blemishes, 
on the voluptuous cheeks of time― 
speak another tale, 
catching the fire. 

In your smashed tree 
of verbosity lived 
my small poem like a spirit. 

You will not write my name 
on the sinless rocks before throwing them 
in the sea. 

And I will watch your face on each 
fallen bract of colored bougainvillea.