Loss of Identity

It was chillingly true.
You walked out-
of the soot, without
leaving any footprints.

There were some very 
hard questions. Why- 
did you snap, 
while sparrows were mating ? 

Carnage. The roses 
were burning inside. The 
red cherries shriek and 
run for the amnesty.

On the terrace, the yellow 
moon descends for a- 
word. Why the nukes were 
pointed towards the spiders ?


Satish Verma
Copyright © | Year Posted 2015

Poem

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