Poezja

Snippets of truth
come to you,
when you chase the anger and set yourself
on fire. An intimate slap of a fall guy
rages after the defiance.

You are no longer bleeding gold.
A windowless home
for the defiled, waits for you
at the end of the road.
The democracy has drained out all the symbols.

Behind the grain now lies the eye;
behind the wood now fire rages.
A stretch of pair on ethnic hills.
Wings unfold,
but light goes out.


Satish Verma