I Am the Lover

After separation from death rain-scented moon was rising in broken sky. Night birds started fluting one to another relentlessly; earth unjointed, was speechless, in failures we meet often, a little while. I was ascetic scaling blood pollution, the life had no mercy, incapable of healing. You surge for the bleeding miner, the gold missing, priest was innocent, behind the peels lies the empty hand, insanity in parallel depression will find a new praise. The infinite solitude of the soldier in war fights the demons of blind desires. One by one they kill you from the mountain. You rise from the ocean under twilight of winged stars. SATISH VERMA