Satish Verma

(5-6-1935)

TRAVAILS OF VIVISECTION


The future dubs.
A pride is shattered.

The philanderer moon
sprawls over the
candlewick.

A ghost walks
through the wall.

A thin blade of
grass, holds the sun
for ransom.

Fireflies flutter in head
savagely.

I was not able to sleep.
What was the theme of the murder?

No sugar, no salt
was worthy of death.

Submitted: Monday, November 25, 2013
Edited: Monday, November 25, 2013
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