Living through the pain,
Truth reveals a non truth in the center,
For disowning the shadow.
Life throws up its own version.
Innocent or evil, kyphotic or straight.
I witness the depth of a conflict nonchalantly.
And thought enters a void to spawn the voices
Irrespective of nothingness,
And non-significance.
I go north of thinking,
Touch the windless night.
Darkness chastens the stars.
A moon looks up at me.
The defiance of closed windows,
Reclining on the rumpled wall
Ultimately holds back the licking death.
Doors are keeping down the screams.
And life is swallowing the dirt.
Eloquence of divinity,
Negates the failure of past.
Satish Verma
