Poetry

Cutting across the food wars
against adamant century
do you think we will become extinct in this
uncool climate?
The dying windows do not throw any light.
I fear in dark alone.

The earthworms are nibbling
at history of mankind.
wearing the ash of dead rivers.
Between the same words
god disappears
and what is left is the image of broken
violins.

Why don’t you set the birds free
and break the cage of knowledge?
The searing heat of arguments
will find the golden silence.


Satish Verma