DEATH IN EXILE

Written by: Satish Verma

He had pulled in many springs
but failed to find a heaven.
Asked not to look away. In

absences he tried to enter
the wounds again. An aboriginal
pain flies over my shoulder.

A spiritual failure of mankind ?
Counting unctuously the birds nesting
on an invisible tree.

This narration has no vocabulary.
Only oily sounds of original
lunacy. You want to cover

an empty canvas. A self-portrait
was abandoned after
the cloudburst of slogans.


Satish Verma