# addiction # disapointement # life # heart # truth # suffering # sadness # pain # weak # story # happiness # empty # mistakes # fate # shakespeare # time # space # lies # difference # deceit # madness

The Worm

The worm crawled out the ground,

And started slithering around.

A slither slither here.

A slither slither there.

A slither slither everywhere.

Eeck, Eeck !!

Said the people .

Who saw the worm,

Slithering around.

A stomp stomp here.

A stomp stomp there,

A stomp stomp everywhere !!

You must be strong ,

Said I  to the worm,

To get stompped on,

Such as that !!

I'm not strong,

I'm weak.

Said the worm.

That's why they they stomp on me !!

That's truly sad, a pity, brings a tear to my eye.

Said I.

You should be stronger

Fight for your rights !!

Be someone to look up to.

You should be more like me.

I'll be what I am

Said the worm,

Stomp Stomp

Slither, Slother

To this day,

It goes on and on.

End of Chapter

Im tired of thinking, my mind is going dizzy. I'm tired of stressing, I'm suffocating. My heart is bleeding, my veins are in pain. My ears have gone deaf and my body is weak . This is insane . I once loved you, but guess your mind was elsewhere. I thought what we raised was love, but it was in vain ...... Just lust.. Guess this is no longer my place to stay. I'm sorry for all the pain and tears I've caused. But guess it's for the best. For you, me and us. All the best. Take care. Bye....xxxx


Satish Verma

This was a troubling concept─ 
to start a dress rehearsal, 
of ethnic cleansing. 

Something pokes out─ 
on the tail end of the story. 
There was no heart in the game. 

You are driven like a─ 
flock of sheep. The shepherd 
lives in the fortress of slogans. 

A placebo effect was quite- 
evident. Everybody was 
drunk on sugar pills. 

Unadulterated, the swearing─ 
had become genetic. You start 
walking on the burning coals.

Satish Verma


Satish Verma

Grip loosening; 
the lesser evil─ 

will liberate you─ 
from the nights terror. 

The moon bleeds, 
in your bed. 

A raw wound─ 
unblinks in pain. 

No words will speak 
for the fallen icon. 

The death has extracted 
its price. 

Black milk exudes 
from the round breasts. 

Sun was rising.

Satish Verma


Satish Verma

Infamous in death. 
You stop fighting─ 
with me. I will ask the dynasty, 
Where was your enemy? 

It was within you, he 
said. Crawling in the dark─ 
poems. Will you invite 
the monk for the atonement? 

Spiritual? Between the 
sentences, you fall asleep. 
Green-crockery turn to a 
naked statue, for comfort. 

The black lips start 
kissing the red hooks.

Satish Verma

Loss Of Identity

Satish Verma

It was chillingly true. 
You walked out─ 
of the soot, without 
leaving any footprints. 

There were some very 
hard questions. Why─ 
did you snap, 
while sparrows were mating? 

Carnage. The roses 
were burning inside. The 
red cherries shriek and 
run for the amnesty. 

On the terrace, the yellow 
moon descends for a─ 
word. Why the nukes were 
pointed towards the spiders?

Satish Verma

Loving Our World

Satish Verma

We heard the screams. 
Water to water, 
fire to fire. 
It was not marginal pain. 
A meaningful dialogue 
had started in unhinged doors. 

The house is empty. 
You come out from nothingness 
to share the slogans. 

The country wakes in the eye of guns. 

Someone was fishing in troubled 
waters. The bread becomes crazy. 

Under the black moon 
the white, hungry mouths. 
A sacrifice!

Satish Verma

The Bloody Hand

Satish Verma

You must be precise. 
I am in search of me. 

No clue, yet to find the hand, 
which was baked in the klin─ 
and that did not feel the pain. 

It was all over. No need to nurse 
anybody. The wounds, the multiple 
bullet marks. Did you see it coming? 
The fusillade, which lit up the room? 

You become the question to find the 
answer. Come out of the body. 
There was no spring in sight. 
It was a long winter of sealed lips 

You must be color-blind. 
The roses look black. The 
avalanche was red!

Satish Verma

After The Carnage

Satish Verma

Prepare the beds 
for the nocturnal read of book. 
The wodden angels- 
have arrived, carrying 
the golden caskets. 

O zero town, 
your children are coming home. 
There will be no interrogation 
in this fusion of grief 
and anger! 

I refuse to take 
a hoax call of death. The 
moon becons for an eternal bliss. 
Let the red eyes─ 
speak not of any pain. 

The agony of crying sky 
will not be said by any mourning 
mother, when you throw the dust 
unto dust. A new journey 
had just begun.

Satish Verma