# #betrayal #life #forgiveness #suffering #sadness #pain #mistakes #madness #let me be

Taking Off Frills

Satish Verma

I was always looking 
at your face. 

One of trinity, 
the fallen spirit, that 
did't bore any number? 

A visible mark 
betrays the flying grief 
of a pagan. 

Between the cacti, 
desert was blooming. No 
water, no river in the eyes. 

The smoke was 
rising, in all its viciousness. 
The panic was writ large on the face of moon. 

How far was the death 
camp of unwanted dreams? 
I am not bone, I was not flesh.

It Was Outlandish

Satish Verma

The genial face of nephrite. 
Jade, stone of the flank, 
was becoming sectarian. 

The pain was excruciating. 
Not the evidence of god― 
an imitation love. 

The anatomy of conflict 
looks vulgar. The street fight 
comes out in open. A new born baby 

on trash bin. I will not 
ask who was the father of 
truth. Today I commit myself 

to the walking stones. There 
was no music. You are 
awakened by a loud thud. 

The god falls from a big height.

Beyond Discernment

Satish Verma

The last thing 
I wanted to say before 
the sun went down. 

Heal thyself, Oh 
seer, stoking the flames 
under the lake. 

fall of your climax― 
for golden calf. 

Like a hen in blind 
panic, under the spell 
of innocent blade.

Clean Hands

Satish Verma

Deeply troubled inside, 
I become silent 
like a quiet, serene sea. 

Impatience. It 
has erupted again in my 
hardened mood. 

Playing a gamble 
without a dice. An unmasked 
body trembles. 

I will ask my 
river goddess one day― 
where was my moon? 

Exploding in its 
face, the enigma had never 
any physical. 

Making things easier for you. 
I stand in the moment of truth 
on flames.

Clinging To Hope

Satish Verma

Revealing id, 
without ego, and hunger. 

I may not touch 
you ever, placing my palm 
down face on the burning candle. 

Step by step I come 
near you and move away 
collecting my pins. 

The medallion still hangs 
in the cleavage. 

You will throw your head 
backward and laugh in misty chimes. 

The skiagram shows the increased 
vascularity. Would you come 
if I don't call you? 

We will smell together 
the parting lips, trying to say 
love, but unannounced.

A Leap Of Faith

Satish Verma

Nothing left to do 
anything today. 
Snow falling incessantly. 

Did not believe ever 
in shortcuts. 
Still moving on legs. 

Soundlessly I 
meet my strange god 
under a sickle moon. 

Faraway my old 
faith listens― 
to the footsteps of dawn.

It Hurts

Satish Verma

You start forgetting 
the absence of 
existence. Wishing to remain 
dead for sometime― to see what you did't 
want to see in the hands of god. 

A tricky aura 
overlaps the consciousness― 
of proxy war. Someone 
cries out for the earth's hug. 
Wolves start howling. This 
was a stainless murder. 

I get nightmares. Craft 
slips from the tongue. You 
must decide for yourself, who 
was a clean angel. Door was 
locked, key in your pocket. 
You cannot move in the absence of proof. 

I told you, we are heading 
towards the Apocalypse.

Where A God Sleeps

Satish Verma

At the end of the day, 
standing before a shut window― 
in fear of power game 
under a cataract of twilight. 

A panther had visited 
again at night in your courtyard― 
to sniff out the 
hidden moons. 

Your ism was on fire. 
Logic gone. The weird neighbors 
had become bedfellows. 

A dirty war will ensue 
between the translation and 
original script, in fake 
and real. 

You slap a drum. Pathos. 
I have reached where I 
did not want to.

The Shaken Faith

Satish Verma

the oil lamps floating 
on the holy river, have 
started bleeding. 

So much blood had spilled 
on the street, after 
slitting the throats of a 
runaway couple. 

This was not my religion. 

Do not steal me from my 
footsteps, wounded by 
the gifts given by you, I 
will not come back. 

I have stopped reading our gods. 

It was the lynching of the savior. 
Let me count the dots and― 
dashes, the unsaid crimes 
of opening the text books.