satishverma

Marking The Graves

Remaining hawk 
in voyage of tears, birthing 
a poem. 

If art of communicating was 
via testosterone, why 
did you land on water? 

Mongrels were increasing, 
dirtying the road. 

Greif multiplies. Hate was ingrained 
in faith. The arithmetic goes wrong. 

Landscape stays. Moon moves on. 

Why red roses were 
dying in your land? Tell me 
angel, tell me. 

The rage insults me. Who 
was perfect in the crowd? 
Do I ask the god?