Poetry

Spark of libido was doused
in golden dust.
Let the darkness decide
the ascension of ice.

The possession of naked rose,
him, the pure jewel
panicks in the manipulation of hands
crawling on the purple sea

of corals. A battle starts
for a mystic wheel, for opening
the door of heaven. A sooty
entrance in the hall of sins.

The gathering of queens, a flock
of serpents; the failing guts
of the hero, what if the city
that never wakes.


Satish Verma