Poetry

In unaligned loneliness,
tonight, a liquefied moon
will fill up my glass, and my shadow
will sit beside me and we will drink the pain.

Lets’s settle in twilight of stars
and think not of violence of crawling
and inflicting damages to each other; I will never be
myself again during the random dark.

The end of punishment or punishment
of ending were drawing very near,
dotting the landscape. All the budhas
are assembling to wash our sins.

Give me some bones to fix the knees,
I have lost my golden throne in
the dazzle of wounds, the flames
are lifting the red sky.


Satish Verma