Poetry

It was haemolysed
the homeless night.
Flagellation will bring out the truth.

The bloody kerchief
was thrown on a crowd.
A new comet was sighted.

Dust and ice were
near the tears.
Sun was rising.

Something fell
in the lake. Death was going
to be celebrated.

Flesh has emptied
the juices. Now
bones will laugh.


Satish Verma