Mnı Poems

Folder: 
Satish Verma

The maligned, 
bloody moon, 
will never show 
the darkside. 

Like 
human nature, 
a theorem, 
unsolved. 



The fiction 
was incomplete. 
The end, 
was unending. 

Blaming 
the punctuation. 



No 
amnesic stance. 
I wanted to stitch 
The fragmented past. 

The tainted 
weeds, will not 
allow the phrase 
to complete. 



Was there any 
need to catch 
the essence of physical? 

The words were 
sufficient to hurt 
the unborn.