Poetry

A mob rapes a moon
under the blue sky.
Then parades her half-naked body
on the streets of clouds.

Arousal of anger
devours the mate
in a nocturnal rendezvous
with a sea horse;

cuts off the head
to shake out the frozen tears
from unweeping eyes.
Life stares face to face

with death, of a star.
A slow hesistant voice
opens the layers of silence
for seeking justice.

Truth weeps making no pretention.


Satish Verma