NOTHINGNESS AND BEING

Sometimes lurking in corner. 
Sometimes tumbling down 
endlessly, 
and sometimes with frozen smile 
immolating oneself 
before an idol to be. 

He danced imprisoned in a glass case 
whole life. 
Overcoming the pretentious inhibition 
to stand naked in dimlights 
of arguments. 

He started a dialogue 
about the disquietening habits 
of killing each other with sharp tongues. 
I said death and life are two suggestions 
worth consideration. A clump disdain in between. 

The birds are circling again in sky. 
Someone is going to die. 
Avians knew the travesty of existence. 
Question of self praise 
ultimately drowns 
in melody of being.

Satish Verma