Satish Verma

In shadow of moon― 
amidst banal, repeated answers, 
you take a shot. 

Moment of truth― 
dissembles, the religion 
of fear and kill. I hear 

a sea of daffodils 
going wild. 
After the aching, The vision is lost. 

You revert to bind 
alleys. Between faith and hope 
flickering light waits. 

You stir and churn, 
breach the obscene party 
and go for a god.