Transmutation

Folder: 
Satish Verma

The single purple moon 
was cruising non-chalantly. 
You come out at the window─ 
and hit the headlines. 

Put on hold, my existential 
being. I am becoming 
non-existent. The abundant 
mental ills, become a cause. 

Do you agree on this verdict? 
It comes back to haunt you, 
Your past. The black hope dis- 
membering you. You come─ 

out finally to declare the murder. 
I am waiting in the wings.

allets's picture

That Is It

The thing I look for in your scribbling, the mind inside the meaning of each letter, each space, each intent - and the reader is the rewardee/ess :D - Stella