Evolution

For cloning of small gods you took out the kidneys, lungs and stomach, from slain truth’s body. My bête noire, the lies. Do you smell the stink? You make yourself, you are not your id. The urge to take a flight was very strong. Groins aching for the heroic jump. Legs amputated, the tragedy, swims like a fossil truth in the sea, under the layers of centuries. Man has not changed, cheated of the death. SATISH VERMA