Poetry

Got struck on the spiky gate
a half-eaten deer
shattering the panther.

Daggers were drawn.
Terrier was in the glass house.
Canine discretion to draw the blood
between friends.

A crisp murder of a terrorist.
spotted face of the relentless moon
sending flames to jasmines.

The little skulls popping up
amongst rumors.
I scream in a celestial leap.

I could walk in ruins
of incarnations
preaching for death.


Satish Verma