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Theme: Life Share This Page
One Hundred Moons
by Satish Verma
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  On the battle turfs of a vernacular 
hunger, the hikes were killing 
the uncertain values. Committing suicide 
was a regular feature. 

To pay off the debts of a flag. 
By using pesticides on unsuspecting 
guests of tomorrow. 
The clocks were set one century back. 

What could be done of an anonymous 
terror bomb placed in a lunchbox? 
Do we wait for an accident? 
Who will open it? 

All summer, one hundred moons 
I will wash your face 
to read the command. 
Who had put the stiletto in your hand?
Share This:
November 01, 2011
More By: Satish Verma
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