satishverma

GOD OF BLESSINGS

Moon-scented I walk in dark 
to put me back in place, 
unwithered, 
opening the inner casket for a glow. 

Pleading not guilty 
after killings in bed, of affectionate 
kill of lies, a black widow 
romps around with a flag of morality. 

Was it a systemic swallowing 
of a bait put up by a shipwreck? 
The bodies were flowing in a row 
in caldron of acrimony. 



Satish Verma