Poetry

Keep the paper blank,
do not write anything new.
Words were abducted earlier also
Let the truth speak from the folds
of dying clocks.

Fauns were searching the human
abodes for fake currency of truth. There
was no method in their method. Do you
find a pride in their attacks? A strange
militia had joined hands with sleep mafia.

My soul colours the half-black berries.
The sum will not eat them.
Father was beaten in war of tricks
I still follow the laws of kindness
in filling the extended empty cups.


Satish Verma