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Satish Verma Visibility was poor when he pursued
the face, face of himself.
The eyes, quizzical eyes, looking at the image
of cogitating mind, who had left the body.
Condemned to think, think ceaselessly
for a long time, for the election of truth,
what we deserve, Violence was within us,
rage was ensconced
in our veins.
And we were destroying the beautiful dawn.
Trials of shadows had begun
and execution of innocent marvels started,
which continued till the dark hour.
Then he had the premonition.
Dirt will prevail now. Coarse banners
were recalling the candles
from the homes. Future was collecting
thousand of dark memories and time
had stopped in its tracks.
