It was fear and anguish.
You were talking about evil. Returning
evil to evildoer. I touch your psyche.
I am not happy. Some thing is burning inside.
Dehumanizing the death? Betraying the muse of god?
The ending fo hidden mist and sick bedrooms,
I am counting the parameters. There is a moral pride
in humane slaughter and annexing the smile.
Sun is again coming under eclipse. Light is
growing fainter. I am again afraid of darkness.
Night of shadows and running midgets. They
prolong the agony. I turn towards the earth
for the impromptu music of life.
Satish Verma