Delhi Blast

I am still naked inside. Beautiful, trace element is trembling, involuntarily in infamy. You live to succumb again. The halved body does not stir after the explosion. Lips were moving without voice. Tonelessly your feet melt in the steps of saints. The wounded sun is born again in the name of faceless martyrs. For whom the birds will fly after a terror strike ? The sky was asking the wayfarer, who has betrayed the path ? Satish Verma