Never Again

Satish Verma

You to whom, I 
am lost, the remaining pain 
will fetch the grace― 
poise and dignity of 

The future lies in― 
the halo of the hill, where 
the blood was spilled last night. 

A black spot on the sun was 
enlarging. I spell your name 
in a bird song, that croons 
tirelessly in timeless dawn. 

The moon drenched lake 
wails for the boat not to come.