The Wait

Folder: 
Satish Verma

No more venom for me. My throat is full 
and sore is spurting. 
King cobra, take rest. You must be tired 
after going for so many bouts. 
Sleep well. I have to wake till eternity. 
The time is running out and I am ready 
for judgement. 
A miracle has happened in the hungry eyes. 
God helped them to hang with folded hands. 
Nobody cried for dead. 
Spates of suicides told it verbatim.. 
Names of victims were engraved 
on painted boards. 
Souls were covered with innocent songs. 

A brutal wind blows. Everything 
looks normal and serene. 
Dirty lanes are again full of trembling 
legs in wait for the handouts.