satishverma

REMINISCENCES

The sludge overtakes the sane 
euphoria.A barefoot caravan 
of cloud becomes edgy. 

The hills have gone green. 
The cascading falls 
tend to mount on the scattered stones. 

Suddenly I go berserk and start 
hitting the stars moon by moon, 
when night had betrayed the lover. 

The collected grief of the lyrics 
will answer for the blood 
which hunger spread on the lips.

Satish Verma