COLLECTIVE GUILT

profiling the divine phallus 
on terraced shrouds of fault the dilemma 
of arcane notation starts for that 
succultent rumours, emotively torn asunder, 

a green room becomes epiphanic, 
the voice was gone with black sun; 
buried onto neck in the drenched earth 
the age old sins will be purified 

today i meet you for a refusal to place 
wreaths for soft death unceremoniously in 
the lethal dose for assisted end of life; 
a flame hangs like a pendant on the wall, 

deflowered chaste tree, stretched unchilled 
in deep wounds: it turns to my inner 
eye, the voyage to anonymity of incomplete 
cries of a broken dream, tody sleep not

Satish Verma