Satish Verma

The dark energy 
brings a little death, everytime 
you throw a lighted torch at - 

the hunched mass of a wounded 
pride when you were wanting 
a wayout from within in vain. 

A neurotic dilemma to 
arrive or not to arrive 
for the final act of - 

kicking the bucket. Silence 
one day will speak to me 
in whispers for a beautiful 
elegy of a charred remains 
of a renegade god who always 
wanted a silver rain.