ONCE UPON

Robbing the silence of heights 
to undo the whole sky, you lean on 
an enigma to become reverential, 

elevated by an absurd system; 
I was still pursuing fidelity 
in the rubble of meaningless life; 

not faith, but certain urge to follow 
the doorway to unknown, something to be done 
for the hungry child’s scream, 

the truth that was not there, nor with the 
inclined gods of tomorrow. Then where 
shall we meet in the grazing bones 

of new born human culture? 
The instant music of death wish lingers on a moon 
and then flies away in a kiss.

Satish Verma