REMEMBRANCE

A tribal fear 
was lurking, 
behind a surge of emotion. 
The sun was looking black. 

A sexual abuse 
of a quaint flower 
aborts the fruit. 
This year we will go hungry. 

A nascent seed 
stripped on road- 
cries for water. 
We hear without listening. 

Death by a grave 
was a domestic claim. 
But you were found dead in a bunker. 

Life vows to stand alone 
on the burning deck- 
of a turbulent ship. 
The ocean will find a bloody hand one day.

Satish Verma