satishverma

NO COMPLAINT

A brown cloud descends 
on charcoal sketch. 
Moonstruck, a blast begins. 

Marigold, beware: 
sun is going to hide 
behind the stings. 

The fang penetrates deep, 
in the breast 
of sleeping pride. 

A golden god 
melts in the arms 
of mercy. 

The lips suck the blue poison 
of the hymns. 
The saint was a killer. 

I am a ravaged path 
who wants nothing 
from the feet! 

Satish Verma