Satish Verma, 27 february 2024
Out of nowhere,
a miracle takes place.
Silence starts speaking.
Years roll by to―
engage the asteroid
not to strike tiger.
Reason has failed.
The black hole of human
mind sucks all the truths.
Satish Verma, 26 february 2024
Why do I think
different, gripping senses
to catch the god.
Rugged hands have
soft lines to reach truth
by pursuing blood.
The honesty suffers
when you go the other
side of moon to lie.
Satish Verma, 25 february 2024
I would be time.
You were the space. It
happens in scars.
Back and forth, I will
touch your absolute truth.
Bruises weep.
All the comings
and goings were vague.
Who will stand the ground?
Satish Verma, 24 february 2024
A small galaxy
had been devoured. I was
watching earthworms.
Blots reached the moon.
Aborted, the last year's plan.
No starfish moves.
Scooped the dust
of ruins. Brilliant gems were
scattered by you.
Satish Verma, 23 february 2024
Cannot see blood.
Someone had drawn a line
on wrist with a blade.
You were not
aware of living dead,
tangled. No snake.
Bite. Browning skin
cracked. Sleeping along orchid.
Now ultima Thule.
Satish Verma, 22 february 2024
Lime green you
were navigating in
the light of moon.
Who had fallen in
mid of journey, giving up
the bronzed body?
A giant tree
walks with us, sending some
signs of the surrender.
Satish Verma, 21 february 2024
When you shed face
I will wait for your rebirth
like Luna Moth.
Would have been
an achievement had you
remained human!
Why should we live
in different time circles
of awakening?
Satish Verma, 20 february 2024
Asking moon to
be mine at the time of
hyphens and the dots.
Of agony. Burn all
the pages of book. No
marigolds to toss.
The worn body wears
the cloak of yesteryears,
walking bare hands.
Satish Verma, 19 february 2024
In your nirvana
border pains continue to
find inner peace.
Hope has no flesh
and bones. Difficult to
tame my blue body.
A butterfly lands
on your lips to cover
eternal smile.
Satish Verma, 18 february 2024
I stand in middle
of water and juxta pose the days.
Words come and go. Havens beefed.
Who bargained the faux pas?
Don't dismantle my dream world. I have
reached the edge of dying child of god.
No complaints. It is raining.
Blood is buried in the greens. I
don't doubt the integrity of the failure.
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