Poetry

I will need
some new words today.
To say what I did not want to say,
scratching at the surface of truth.
I do not fight with meanings.
A shade between two borders of lies
between right and wrong. The eyes
will speak for the fierceness of hurts
carrying the fear of unknown.
It is, or was it drifting?

The declining time or sliding years
whichever was true,
will find a fallen tree
in a flowing river,
when I was still searching the sandbar
My sane world has no desire.

Satish Verma