Loyal To Death

An answer becomes a question without an effort. The world hisses in filaments of joy. My hands become green branches of a huge tree. Terrified sun moves away with all its glory. I empty myself in a circle of voidness. It was a sad chapter the beginning of violence- the heat dries up the sweat on brows. Standing in the sun I watch, how we are dismantling each other. The innocence of civility, eclipsed by ferocious flesh, loses symphony. The fatal, brutal, savage times. We are running to reach nowhere. The tension creeps under the skin. The impurity of thought hurts like broken glass. A barren land forgets the man & remains loyal to death. SATISH VERMA