satish verma has not received any gifts yet
Dismembering the wreath,
he went on celebrating his own demise.
Shadow had become a white shroud.
He was spitting blood, when slugs,
hit him from behind.
No body remembered his name
We had been dividing the roofs.
My moon and my sky.
I feel my eyes have turned into marbles.
Castaway I float on conscience,…
Let it be as such,
my long cut tear,
Do not dramatize the wound
and put it as an exhibit.
No attempt should be made to mask the fated pain.
Wait for me at the end of the road.
Not for me,
I grieve for the fallen trees, tall glory of past.
It was a question of survival.
Survival of the best, which could not…
Messengers are out,
A haze of dust storm filters down in tearless eyes.
Not caring, not grubbing my inward eye.
I am becoming blind.
A white moon starts bleeding
under the weight of wingless stars.
You never said,
I never heard the rich voice within
the rocks. A tale went to…
A surreal religion comes, straight to altar.
The doubts shift, organise the intolerance.
Life looks deceitful and modesty goes awry.
The craft, the art, the maneuvering become sexed.
Sperms gauge the pathway.
The beauty of empty mind,
always delivers an eclectic music.
We search our hearts, the bared silence.
The death was…