DEATH OF A SHADOW

This life has snubbed the bloom 
like a thick brown sac 
thrown on the sod. 

An octogenarian tries to slice 
the hope indulgingly 
to achieve immortality! 

Was it a virile snarl? 
A rose bud wrenched open 
in a fatherless home. 

Psychopathic? 
We are spinning round the bell. 
It may not tell the god. 

A moon finds a rival 
in the lake. 
Night opens like a black tulip.

Satish Verma