Pantheon

Folder: 
Satish Verma

After the moon 
it was an unkempt night. 

I wanted to kill the narrative 
and recast the frozen history. 

A dirt road leads to a new trajectory now, 
splattered with blood. 

A double tongued thought brings 
the ire of screaming horror. 

Strapped for knowledge, he believed 
in resurrection of a black hole. 

The pain, it hurts terrible. 
Emblematic was the bending of candles.