No Man's Land

Folder: 
Satish Verma

It was an explicit "I"― 
deeply flawed. 
You had started hitting 
your peers, asking them 
to hate you. 

Psychopath? 
Mea culpa, who would not say? 
Kindles a tender feel― 
when you love a pink rose, 
not uttering a word. 

Scared, my tremors 
start like a leaf. Cannot hold 
the pen. Very quietly 
I print my tears. 

Thirst, mouthless― 
I drink from eyes. 
Earth beware― the crop has failed. 
Rancher was going― 
to commit suicide.