Delhi Blast
I am still naked inside.
Beautiful, trace element
is trembling, involuntarily
in infamy.
You live to succumb again.
The halved body does not stir
after the explosion.
Lips were moving without voice.
Tonelessly your feet
melt in the steps of saints.
The wounded sun is born again
in the name of faceless martyrs.
For whom the birds will fly
after a terror strike ?
The sky was asking the wayfarer,
who has betrayed the path ?
Satish Verma
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