LACERATIONS

Were you a price victim 
of an unknown? 
You step out in darkness after 
a family fued to walk barefoot 
on bonsai of miffed arguments. 

You do not know the barbs, 
the hidden hate of centuries, 
and yet you must finish the voyage 
to truth, the song of eternity. 

Upon these wounds lies the blue 
eye of a soul, as pure as the Himalayan 
ice, the abode of a quivering god, 
not the terror, not the war, not 
the imprudence of make-believes.

Satish Verma