The Terrible

This terracotta urn contains the ashes of an earth-baked dream. You worship the setting sun, rape of dawn will continue. Intravenous entry of hope had failed. Outside the window crowd of heirlooms, falling like stars. Thoughts come and go, we hunted opportunities in vain. Tonight I will drop the wheels on the tarmac, to roll the pride. My flight had knocked out the sleeping pain. Now amnesia will help me to climb on the moon’s shoulders. They dragged her in the field, the most deprived one. Was outraged. I send you my grief, my sadness, O, god. The flag was flying half mast, rapist was absconding. SATISH VERMA