Unbecoming

A gunny sack was full of bleached skulls. What now ? Do I attend the auction of mortal wounds in hidden valley of dust ? The arsenal of seductive weapons was a snub to your culture when the fall of extremes was overlapping the sunset of empire. I am going to take my walk in the hell of fire raging in petunias. The emotions are becoming volatile after the rape of a child. Is there any medicine for rape ? Nowhere on earth, the violence stops moving shirtless. The dead century hangs from the eyelashes, traces the dried up tears. Some people think, bricks are weightier than truth. They burn the buses under a weeping willow. A high caste god will not glaze beyond the frozen lake of crutches. Belongings on a striped road vanish in books. A hate gift drops on tulips. SATISH VERMA