I Am the Lover
After separation from death
rain-scented moon was rising
in broken sky. Night birds started
fluting one to another relentlessly;
earth unjointed, was speechless, in
failures we meet often, a little while.
I was ascetic scaling blood pollution,
the life had no mercy, incapable of healing.
You surge for the bleeding miner, the
gold missing, priest was innocent, behind
the peels lies the empty hand, insanity in
parallel depression will find a new praise.
The infinite solitude of the soldier in war
fights the demons of blind desires. One by
one they kill you from the mountain. You
rise from the ocean under twilight of winged stars.
SATISH VERMA
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