Poezja

For an ailing love maker
ending was optional.
Nobody wanted to extend the truth
and hear the distant voices.


Half-waiting to divide the territory,
splinters will unravel the mystery.

A food chain slits the tongue, reaching, not reaching.

In the island of lonliness
somebody has left me midway in eternal twilight.

Amidst the stars
a river forgets the time, and moon
scrapes the sky.


A new pledge may bring back the sun.


Satish Verma