Treasure Island

Satish Verma

(5-6-1935)

…… OF HUMANITY


Do not knock out the water from the eyes,
each dropp is temple
each dropp is death.

Veins were becoming darker
friends disappeared overnight.
A family comes to squat on grass
to scrape the souls of forefathers.

I become puzzled of failed truths,
of guilty nasturtiums fashioned on graves
gathering the human failures.

The deeds and the theatrical prisons
of homes. Anguish and sorrow.
Learning - sucks the beautiful
scarves of splashed deceits.

Into the future you move,
glory or doom? No certain payments.
You have not forgotten the false commitments.

Submitted: Sunday, September 30, 2007
Edited: Tuesday, April 12, 2011

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