Sparks In Woods

Some depth, my thoughts never touched, the moonlight fades on my window. The vague gratification, falls silently on my mind. Pausing on relativity, I open the door to eternity. Vast loneliness of qualms, like the cult of dancing doubts where was the choice? I felt guilty at the fall of truth. Black grass was not my doing. My blood dripped on every count, on every tear. I don’t need questions anymore. Give me landmarks. Darkness was for me. I will walk relentlessly in search of light. Alone, you will remember the fire, the spent spark in woods. It makes a difference when you are picking flowers. SATISH VERMA