Poetry

Want to shed the knowledge
far from the strings
and becoming myself again.

Can you catch the time
slipped from your hands
when you were chasing the tiger?

Phrases were still burning
like white phosphorus
on my forehead.


Where do I take
the burden of centuries wasted
in unnatural drums?

It was inside you, the violence
of world, yet you want to survive
without scars.


Satish Verma