We heard the screams.
Water to water,
fire to fire.
It was not marginal pain.
A meaningful dialogue
had started in unhinged doors.
The house is empty.
You come out from nothingness
to share the slogans.
The country wakes in the eye of guns.
Someone was fishing in troubled
waters. The bread becomes crazy.
Under the black moon
the white, hungry mouths.
A sacrifice!
Satish Verma