DOWNPOUR

Your lips were me. 
I wanted a kiss 
which never came. 

Insertion of a word, was committed 
my wings took a flight 
for anonymity. 

To keep suffering alive 
truth was accepting the hurts. 
I was not speaking for myself. 

Who was me to want a praise 
for the custodian of morality? 
Something for my name? 

I must salute the fallen fingers, 
who did not write death  
for my hugging blankness.

Satish Verma