CROWD AT THE MORGUE

A new planet was taking birth. 
Stem cells were coming out of 
obedience to carnality. 
For resuscitation from kiss of death 
faith was at its best in its witchcraft. 

Complete blood count failed, 
to diagnose the strange madness. 
It was a whirling chemistry. 
The transmitters merely took in 
the sin, the insanity. 

A huge crowd collected at the morgue 
to collect the severed limbs, 
after the death of a sun. 
Picking the scars of dark 
and slaughtered tomorrow. 

The rage of sunrise will come back. 
One day the clouds will burst open. Yes 
the death will come as a bride.

Satish Verma