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
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