satishverma

ALONENESS OF FIRE

He was asking for, at least, 
a passive euthanasia. 

Rage or hostility 
was giving pain to phantom limbs. 
Race puts forth, 
a trembling version 
of ethnic choice. 
A piped dream 
which never took off. 

On middle of the road 
a dragon rumbles, 
hissing flames. 
Something not on the left 
not on the right. 
Cannot keep the sky open. 
Nothing moves now, 
not even leaves of a lone tree. 

There was a random cry 
unheard in the aloneness of fire.

Satish Verma