Drunk Like Black Stones Poem by Satish Verma

Drop the million
stars. Don't you go high
in the air. Sky will
do some scandals.

And there was a deeper
meaning. Can you read
between the lines drawn on
the forehead of a blank face?
A sad man's dilemma?

You know what I don't
know. It was upon me to
prove the guilt of mirror. Overnight
it was raining on roses.

So simple but enigmatic.
So many buddhas for many
questions. I will move inwardly
to find you in the jungle of bluebells.

History repeats.
I fall in your autumn.