Satish Verma
Pantheon
After the moon
it was an unkempt night.
I wanted to kill the narrative
and recast the frozen history.
A dirt road leads to a new trajectory now,
splattered with blood.
A double tongued thought brings
the ire of screaming horror.
Strapped for knowledge, he believed
in resurrection of a black hole.
The pain, it hurts terrible.
Emblematic was the bending of candles.
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