Collateral

When the curtain falls, the puzzled instinct inherits the confusion of clouds. The beleaguered moon goes into a rage. Hungry vultures start a wait for the fall of a titan, stimulating the sun to exhibit the trove of the golden rings. Go blackberries, with bloody roses into the dawn. Whole night our bones had gone crazy. Flickering like stars on the lake of speechless body. All his life he was searching for the windows to let in the fire for burning up the boots. Satish Verma