Just Beauty

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Today I want to take a lethal dose 
of black lips, confronting the killer on 
contract. Time dithers to escort. May be 
a cold-blooded murder of a handful of 
sick shadows will give a transparent 
memory. 

Planting a sad kiss on blameless 
insomniac, I rub the sweet tenderness 
of morning blossom, a work of a faithful 
artist, an unnoticed grief (for the sake 
of old promise) . Meanwhile the blue moon 
splits into thousand splinters. 

From the height of insanity flows 
the chaste river of history. I defy the 
laws of gravity and climb with death 
all the time, becoming dark to myself, 
finding the shape of light in 
beauty of death.