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Theme: Life Share This Page
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by Satish Verma
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  It was otherness which bothered me:
nothing happened otherwise.
Brisk and upright
He failed penultimately.
I still hear the footfalls of circumstances,
of retreated sounds.
The hidden fire lights up
I squirm in pain.
The canopy of false rumors
falls on dirty road.
His gangrene was evident;
still he walked with a glow,
all alone,
but listening to howling
and surveying the floods of tears.
A single argument lifts the tanned skin
displeases the mob and abandons the search.
 
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July 16, 2012
More By: Satish Verma
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