RAAS! *

The evening opens a wound, 
a secret agony. 
It neither heals nor gives solace. 
The sacred whore who liberates herself 
from the flesh. 
Sun is pink and ashamed. 

A crescent moon thought it was time 
to step outside and find out the truth. 
Night was willing to participate. She 
wrote a message on the sky 
as a survivor of a slaughter. 

And now the paths of winds trace 
a faded destiny of earth. It had 
nothing to offer, till the god of hopes 
comes in purple light and the jasmines, 
open their dancing eyes.

Satish Verma