Somebody Dies

Satish Verma

You walk through me 
opening the portal of― 
unending moment. 
A right to die lingers in the eyes. 

Not a serenade. I am 
tying the knot on the tree. 
The wait was becoming too long. I 
would read again Hamlet without the prince. 

Truth was not happy, when 
you brought down the body. 
The wind was moving like a panther 
stealthily before the kill. 

How shall we bite our toes― 
now? They have left 
a bloody trail on the 
weeping grass.