Unworded

The search was absolute, truth was not. The shades of impermanence and flowing emotions merged. I stood between the reality and tilting shadows of time zones. The distance had created metaphors and I was weary of pretentions. The deep sorrow nurtured a grain of truth an essence of time. Earth shuddered in the process of integumentation. I trampled on the grass as if to find the ozone. Impatience scattered the wings. I smelled the stone. Take me not to gloom of death, the immeasurable pain I will find the ultimate path. It was not easy to uncondition the lips. Mute genes had become my potency. Unworded a voice rose in the east, I squirmed. SATISH VERMA