Not Being With Self

Satish Verma

A danger looms
large, permeating in
eyes, arms and legs.

This was an
ethnic divide of the body
for different hurts.

My voice doesn't
reach you. Still I was
calling you from thick fog.

Some galaxies are
half-eyed. Come follow me,
I will show you a burning comet
with a heart of ice.

Dust takes revenge.
One day burning glass
will ask the price of living.

I knew you will
attack from within to
become a ghost.

How much less
I knew?