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Below is the poem entitled WRENCHING which was written by poet Satish Verma. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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The crisis starts boiling
about the invisible foes.
        The contraptions hope to recapture
        the moods.

Harsh, arrogant and ritualistic.
In the stark nudity of silence
         a wooden Buddha lies on the
         floor crying. 

“ I am not happy, I am not happy.
Why were you still a virgin ?”
          White butterflies will not sit
          on jasmines to lose their script.

There was a black moon to chase
the fugitive. There will be no midnight
           sun. Between lips and cups
           the grey fox had lighted a lamp.

Satish Verma 

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