Fighters At Large

A nebula rises unfazed after fission: after a fractured debate, greed crouching on the wrinkled noses of rugged bouncers. In remote history someone was burning itself out. A black eye surges forward, sings an ode to championship. Ankles swell up. Veins become jelly. The thyme is absent. Stink bellows on your faces. The green pond becomes red; tragedy of wounds. Speaker in bloody silence quotes the black sun out of despair. Everything was in disarray. In mating of souls flesh flew in rage; a pink river swamped the inmates of tomorrow. Enough! Time marches on the dead leaves of sorrow. My candle burns at both ends. Alien moons keep a watch. Bloodlines are obliterating. We seek the graves of unknown soldiers! SATISH VERMA