I Cannot Speak

Folder: 
Satish Verma

My primordial agony
turns into the love of an angel of dreams.
Can you walk on the mirage?

Wickedness was evident.
People want to wear the masks of their whole
face. Unrecognized they want to rape the truths.

The hate opens the holy book
and searches the stings of scorpions.
Who was dragging the bag of snakes?