FAILURE

Sound of footfalls was drawing near; 
the tiger has been set free. 
In the wild landscape you need 

some feverfew. Death was constantly 
stalking to trade off the dolls in 
lieu of sameness of the stones. 

The shifting sand drips in the eyes. 
Face to face we come near the blind 
ruins of today, denying the questions. 

Who was responsible for the dark 
skulls in the ragbag and explosions 
near the granite temples? 

Your face was not on the poster, but 
you write the lessons to interrogate 
the past. The gods are not visible.

Satish Verma