Stoning Dark

What was the ethics of homefires when homeostasis had gone awry ? There were no concrete truths. I will not wear the lies instead like fly ash on my bloodied shirt. The old habits die hard; the beds of flesh and bones, carry the strange innocent meanings of heavy eyelids which could not beat the silk of green eyes of a sun. A miracle was needed to undo the thighs of mermaid who went to sleep on the rocks of jealousy. The sky-blue flames rise again from the navel of infidel love who had inherited the golden moon. Satish Verma