Poetry

Layer by layer, a pterygium 
was removed to improve the vision. 
Eyes did not blink. 

The words did not come 
on your tongue. 
You learned to become a stranger. 
A cemetery woke up tonight. 
No body was going to put 
to sleep in dark.

For peace you die, 
living alone with death 
in a desert of bullets. 

Under the sun 
you abandon food for the sake of red ants, 
who were going to crawl on your body.

Satish Verma