Poetry

In war of attrition 
with moon, 
you need a black eye. 
 
The stars blinked. 
A milkyway changed its stance 
and went on fast track. 
 
The sense of sky 
was changing. Earth 
decided to take off the veil. 
 
I was not engaging 
any contradictions. Let the turmoil 
throw up an alternative. 
 
It was seen coming. 
The blind snakes 
starting an intrepid attack.