Juxtaposed

Give me a piece of your body before you go. A tooth, a nail, a curled hair. A relic, my sadness wants to keep. By your absence I will live in the bones of tangled bodies, who were shot down on their tracks under the sun, eyes apart. The trembling does not stop. Bread loaves were lying uneaten. Wailing rises, reaching a crescendo. Blood splattered soil, my hands collect for god, to show a dirty game, when I meet him as a witness. Wanting to know, why not the right to live was the most sacred thing? SATISH VERMA