In the billow of mercurial cataclysms
Sharp as the pyrexia of igneous pebble stones
Upon my hindquarters I was cast
The circles that were established
Branded my skin with cancerous nightmares
Crafting the twisted love song ****ing my throat
Through the lavender haze I tread
Threatened by a medley of conundrums
The tongue legislating such echoes
‘tis the element I so daringly seek
Long night will start the pincer movement;
pyrexia is rising.
Something like an extraterrestrial hand
digs deep in the mind to open the tomb
to unravel the tragedy of nuts and bolts
which could not fix
the mutation of the hour of death.
Dark blinking lashes of soul
measures the cliffs of silence
and then pours the hot red
vermilion in parted wisdom of sky.
The clang of bones again penetrates
the liver. The green flaming jelly of
innocent bellies.
The hyacinth is choking the village pond
hiding the corpses of precious flowers
with green blood.
One day foundation of skeletons will build a
temple of hope.
SATISH VERMA
Long night will start the pincer movement;
pyrexia is rising.
Something like an extraterrestrial hand
digs deep in the mind to open the tomb
to unravel the tragedy of nuts and bolts
which could not fix
the mutation of the hour of death.
Dark blinking lashes of soul
measures the cliffs of silence
and then pours the hot red
vermilion in parted wisdom of sky.
The clang of bones again penetrates
the liver. The green flaming jelly of
innocent bellies.
The hyacinth is choking the village pond
hiding the corpses of precious flowers
with green blood.
One day foundation of skeletons will build a
temple of hope.
SATISH VERMA
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