Regrouping Poem by Satish Verma

My truth was very brief,
sitting at a long distance.
You were plucking words
at my lips.

The toxic path, I knew
the destiny. Not afraid to
catch the saboteurs.

Paper tigers bring
the spurious hemlock. You
drink from the eyes of bystanders.

Like the dropped
hot coal, you look the
perfect model. I was weary of
bald arguments.

Blood and beheading
will not separate. The babies
are locked in ice boxes.

A harem starts taking the
shape. The sociopath was in charge.