Small Mercies

Satish Verma

Who were the derivatives
of hate? When the
counting began, your name
was not there.

Under siege, I was
your prayer. Picking pieces
of violence I went insane.

The wolf climbs
in the last phase of moon.
I was scared to lose you.
Sounds of betrayal were loud.

The human chain caves in,
under brutality of sins.
Nobody was correct in
congratulatory smokes.

It is a slow poisonous
march. We are eating
ourselves like reptiles. The parasites, would
never go hungry.