Theme: Life

Carried My Father Inside

Mirror to mirror, a face floated in anguish
the mourning was deep
whenever inquest for truth was made.
Was it so terrible?

I cannot read the human face.
We were so used to wearing the masks.
Stoned and deaf, fuzzy kiss of death
levels the ferocious peak.
The nameless murder of truth got a reward.
Garden of strange foliage slurred on a song.

A metaphysical experience sniffs the life.
Chained to the probity of the city, I bowed my head.
Reluctant to move in a procession of ugly months.
Lifetime’s nostalgia lifted a veil.
No sleep will descend.
I still carry my father inside.


17-Feb-2012

More By  :  Satish Verma

Views: 1367     Comments: 0


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