Poetry

Exacerbating,
falling in dust,
searching the dead truths
on pills of abandoned bodies of lies.

The dawn brings out
the trapped victims of transmigration
from capricum to capricon.

Then they commit a mass suicide
around hymns to seduce the
god with thousand smiles.
A flock of memories lands on the grey
body of moon for the last rites.

One by one they walk away,
the ironic actors of secular wake,
asking for forgiveness from abyss,
gazing at the eclipsed sun for the last time.


Satish Verma