Poetry

Robbing the silence of heights
to undo the whole sky, you lean on
an enigma to become reverential,

elevated by an absurd system;
I was still pursuing fidelity
in the rubble of meaningless life;

not faith, but certain urge to follow
the doorway to unknown, something to be done
for the hungry child’s scream,

the truth that was not there, nor with the
inclined gods of tomorrow. Then where
shall we meet in the grazing bones

of new born human culture?
The instant music of death wish lingers on a moon
and then flies away in a kiss.


Satish Verma