Theme: Life

Ancient Sins

Drunk with pride 
the streets are bursting 
in self-indulgence. 
Who was calling the shots? 

Do you know the words 
between intermissions carry a secret
till the brazen scoop 
finds the hidden meaning. 

It was grave 
very grave truce, unmaking love 
between the estranged lovers
when clouds were seducing the moon. 

You don't belong to this 
crowd of renegades. Ants 
will take away the 
divorced dreams. 

Fissile belly 
has started showing signs 
of reckoning. A gloom has settled, 
gyrating in a sunken garden 
for the hung corpses. 

Never cruel were the times before 
when blind needles were unstitching 
the lips of frozen faces. I refuse 
to start a prayer 
till the grass covers a silent tomb. 

Last night, it had rained 
on the private flesh. It was 
full of semen. You do not 
belong to this world 
of pregnant pause.


More By  :  Satish Verma

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