Through The Ashes

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Outside, a discreet moon 
was rising, breathing― 
dark. I was wary of strange clouds 
of unknown scents. 

Like a blue absence of nothing, 
from nothing to emptiness. 

The religion of unspoken 
prayers― I start the journey, 
to void. From there a turbulence will begin. 

Blinking eyes― will find 
the answer to a no-question, at 
the end of the conflict― 

when the face is lost to sadness. 
You will not take off 
your shoes.

Satish Verma