Just Cried Poem by Satish Verma

Do not want to foresee;
the unknown me. On the tip
of tongue a stunted silence with singularity

sits. Me and my lantern burn
in dark. Thumbs down: the compact
seeking in failed state alters the future generation.

A reverse pain flows out of sunken
eyes. The perpetrator of bloodbath
wants forgiveness from the toddlers.

This side of a shadow, on the other bank,
a rustic river throws up a stabbed body
of a sailor. Another prologue for the sinking ship.

The rats grumble, bite the dead child of
sunlight. The sky bares the candid toys
of velvety jinx, the robots taking over the throne.