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Native Of Death
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Satish Verma He had started his own manhunt
for an autistic seal for a personal vision
in deep waters. They had left him to die at bottom of pain.
The silent screams against inhuman brutality
started coming from underground. A photo
montage was emerging on the walls. I
dip my fingers in blood to write my name.
Just the untitled truth will speak now.
New species of frogs are making headlines.
Men were becoming amphibians, sailing beyond
the shores of kisses to bite.
They were starving for the sun in caves,
to watch the murals for a resume of flames.
The snow was covering the peaks of shame.
