Poetry

Pieces of day falling like
severed limbs of time. 
Acoustic shadows 
drinking the pain.

Exodus has started 
of thoughts to find an 
enabler, for misting voices 
of indecisiveness. 

Obscene contour abrupts 
the ink. Now there is blank 
depression, behind the globes. 
Cubes have become toeless. 

The night has locked itself in, 
when suddenly grief becomes the sun. 
The celestial makeup was melting. 
We are becoming naked, like pupils.

Satish Verma