# #betrayal #life #forgiveness #suffering #sadness #pain #mistakes #madness #love

Celebrating Dark

Folder: 
Satish Verma

I do not write about something 
or anything. You will 
not knock at my door.

I will be pained, if 
you sweep the floor, to 
tout the unwritten song. 

I sing wordlessly. Even 
the echo will open 
the waning wounds. 

My body, I give to 
hawks, to escape the 
elegies in the death well. 

Even the night 
will bring the pillow 
for the dying moon.

Chasing the Snipe

In love with 

the impossible

 

Chasing the snipe

 

dead ends;

cold cases

 

frustration abound,

 

married to insanity:

doing the same thing over and over again

and expecting different results

Chanced To Meet

Folder: 
Satish Verma

It was not, 
just a kiss of a zodiac sign. 
You had become a stranger 
between fight and flight. 

The trick was capricious. 
Albeit, a calligraphy 
on a bare tree, engrafting 
your name which keeps 
on growing with broadening trunk. 

You watch the sky 
at night and start a monologue. 
The stars were expanding, 
filled with grief. The 
despair of going back home 
in dark.

Venom And Stings

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Behind the iron mask, with 
unsteady hands, I 
separate the conjoined thoughts 
and start greening. 

I will ask, the god 
after a chilling spectacle 
of undying freeze, that 
don't give me the bliss, 
but only truth. 

No mercy, no sympathy. 
I will walk on the spiked 
road to reach you in your own 
sepulcher, to become you 
and suffer. 

Who needs eternity 
to grieve for dying lights? 
Darkness has its holiness.At least 
you won't see the beasts in action. 

O god, let the blue sky 
open like an abyss to embrace 
the fallen baby.

Unpretending

Folder: 
Satish Verma

In search of lost 
memory, there was no regret 
of losing any achievement. 
A Buddha was ready 
to walk away. 

Zebra stripes become 
evident at sunset. 
Was there an eye in the eye, 
the smell in the smell, 
of an infant sea? 

There will be no 
ache retrieval. I am dancing 
around the fire, reversing 
a sin. The ugly and weird 
life has become hypocrtical. 

A smoke shapes your preference.

An Acid Attack

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Sometimes I would 
look at the lame moon. For 
whom you were faltering? 

Perhaps, I was a 
mirror. You trip, fall 
and become a raw wound. 

One day I will 
touch you with my ragged 
hands, to heal my knife.

New Family

Folder: 
Satish Verma

To be honest, there 
was no poem today. 
A refusal to celebrate 
the loss of truth in me. 

The weather is climbing. 
They have assembled to- 
disgorge the peace efforts. 
War was in our blood. 

The great divide of 
guillotines and blessed swords, 
to behead or not to behead 
the god. 

There was very little good 
in the evil designs.We have 
logic and logistic problems. 
You do not want a friend, only enemies. 

The rebellion, the treason, 
the betrayals, all were meant 
to upgrade your divinity. 
let us revert back to animal status. 

The bread, land and water are one.

The Intense Pain

Folder: 
Satish Verma

It was unbashed invasion, 
and then you were paraded naked. 

The marrow was depressed. 
I will not be able to collect you. 

Lost in thoughts, I 
am losing you in every book. 

There was no striving, 
to be called by any name, any monument. 

Hyperplasia. The rot has set in 
Would you come to greet the death one day? 

There was a speaking ache. 
Word was me, I was the tongue. 

The turgid lips still remember. 
Once the sting was here to take a kiss.

Looming Large

Folder: 
Satish Verma

The art of losing the 
core-hurts, standing in deepest 
mood. 
You want to see, what your 
prefrontal cortex thinks. 

The suffering: the debris 
fall on the eyes. 
Vast Greenland melts. 
The terror strikes. You 
inherit the barren land. 

I start talking with the 
spirits. In the shoe box, lies the 
past. The water was rising 
in eyes. The scent of moon 
sometimes misses the earth. 

The butterflies, sometimes 
come, declare the deadline 
for garden prayers.