satishverma

UNASKED

Right on top, you were inching slowly. 
United in hate 
they were tracking you. 

Trespassing the epochs 
you want to go back in stone age 
to retrace the steps 
of a homeless sapience. 

In the brown desert of high hunches 
you were treading haltingly 
hounded by rivals, 
utterly unethical. 

You drew a circle 
without a center, 
readying for a guillotine.

Satish Verma