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Fading Faces
Folder:
Satish Verma Widening the scope
you want to remain
at center stage.
Thinking starts, battling
the ghosts. Doubt remains alive.
A broken beer bottle, at your throat.
You suffer the fall
of humankind.
The acid burns. You wire the
clouds. Tears will not flow.
This is not the end.
Turn the page. Why you
need the signs?
Those pale, staring eyes, unclosed.
Not sufficient?
Can you read the red line?
Was it not an oblique cut,
where the sand was lifted?
