After the Carnage

Prepare the beds for the nocturnal read of book. The wodden angels- have arrived, carrying the golden caskets. O zero town, your children are coming home. There will be no interrogation in this fusion of grief and anger ! I refuse to take a hoax call of death. The moon becons for an eternal bliss. Let the red eyes- speak not of any pain. The agony of crying sky will not be said by any mourning mother, when you throw the dust unto dust. A new journey had just begun. Satish Verma