satishverma

ANOTHER STROKE

On the hay stack lies my body 
brought from the shooting range. 
Brain dead, I exit, to watch 
the blood drenched earth. Foot prints of eternity. 

Window is shut. No light enters. 
In tiers, the cadavers are lying in a heap 
of stinks. Violence has brought the perfect 
insult to bubbling life. 

A naked truth sweeps the floor, burns 
the statements of filthy peers. I was 
young with small eyes, full of water, 
in the face of crime, looking at the stars. 

Death will walk on payments now. 
History will ooze in spurts.

Satish Verma

Comments1

  • baj-a

    the horror of the scene is so vivid in the words you write. I am so pained by the words I cannot even find words to describe how deeply it has affected me.



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