EXPRESSIONLESS

A silent war with oneself 
devouring all the cells, 
the gory remains of words 
and grainy kisses of tears. 

A curved hook in the mouth 
to start a prayer for the freedom 
from whispers of brand and labels: 
liberation from the weight of testaments. 

Bruised glints from the flesh dripping, 
wriggle on serene rocks of resolution, 
before the sin was discovered. A poem 
was awarded to me for excitement. 

An eye and a mirror, a gulch and a stone. 
The smiles are fatal, the blood is pure. 
Hot sun bakes the sand, nudges the 
skull and a pal of gloom settles for eternity.

Satish Verma