Self-Infliction

Folder: 
Satish Verma

This was a perception defict 
when only a suicide could stop you. 
From where to where we 
Have come in traumatized stake. 
Black tongues always ruled. No 
rite of passage, where money changers 
speak. How will you cover yourself now? 

Feminized, the dance of wolves. 
Do not throw the chunks of flesh 
in arena― for hubris will 
bring the nemesis. 

The flint makes a pledge. 
When the red rains come and 
overwhelm the innocent earth, 
we will make the tools again.