I am writing off all the symbols,
will not wait for the judgement
and cross the boundaries.
I am not you,
I am not him,
a blemished soul
it wants to be set free.
Conjugating fever at large
colliding, colliding with guts of needles.
Tasting ambrosia of pain,
oedipus asking for another name.
I am offloading the ancient guilt
give me some time.
I do not want any clouds to follow me,
my words are scented with streaks of blood
and shine when only the cinders arrive.
Satish Verma