MOLTEN TEARS

savage was the bond of weakness; 
we were hiding behind the pain 
of decline, abdicating the singed shrine 
of nameless opposition, nowhere the roots 
were reaching the bottom of truth, I ran 
like river of life amongst the flames, you try to 
resuserstate a dozing century by burning 
poems, every wen fighting the jinx, 
counting the tiny deaths 

give me your locked secrets of fire 
let me face the cold-blooded murder 
in caldron of dead lips

Satish Verma