New Apartheid

A skylight begins the apartheid in ironed out differences. At the shores skulls have reappeared. Blue flames were eating away the green carbon of the dying giants. Fake photosynthesis was canning the skimmed breeze in books and encapsulated euthanasia was available over the counters. Eyeshadows were hiding the dying grace. Tempest would go for a classical dance only. Counting of heads had begun. Price hike of black arrows would decide the fate of a nation. Hunger was writ large on cheekbones of roaming rocks, shining the landscapes. The chorus spreads like eau de cologne over the solitude of my homeland. SATISH VERMA