What Were Certainties? Poem by Satish Verma

After a moral push―
you start soul searching.

You would go back
in the arms of birth,
fighting flame with flame.

The trivial woes, why
the man was afraid of man,
wishing for a caul genesis?

You won't keep to yourself
the secret of virtue,
remaining poor of gods.

Returning to beasts
to define mankind, amidst
flotilla of lies.

The holy sin, you
will start arresting the scions
when the sun rises.