Poetry

Why it should happen
the parting of ways?
Between the will to arrive
and the goal?

Between the unlearning and contempt,
lies a tale.

Terror. Petrifying fear ……….,
doggedly I was defending the door.
Inspite of the terrible blows
I wanted to be myself only.
Reverse, the wheels were turning
aghast I was turning blue.
God! They were creating him new.
As I remember now
they were melting the rocks to make a new face.
I have swallowed the flame, like pride.
melting the iron in eyes.

I shall soon become a tree
with unborn flowers.
Some sorrow, some tears
will drench my roots.


Satish Verma