Power Lines
The numbers were going up
and hallowed men were no-
more saints.
You find that your shirt
was stained. Now fear creeps-
under the skin.
You come near each other in-
dark. Reverting yourself you talk
to strangers.
Against the wall of water as
high as your ego. Epidural abscess-
a silence of unknown.
Now, every hour you die. Light
abducts the dreams. Nothing to-
talk about the blitzkrieg.
Satish Verma
Copyright © Satish Verma | Year Posted 2015
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