I AM DRUNK ON THE HEMLOCK

My lips are black, 
I am drunk 
on the hemlock, proferred by you - 
my life. I am still in love with pain. 

What not, the trial 
tried to break my resistance. 
I will walk on my hands 
paraplegic legs lifting my eyes. 

Why did you want me to fake a death. 
She was my lover, my shadow 
always walking along with me. 

So, you did not authored the article 
on my demise in ravines 
watching the son eclipse? 

Extinct, headless, corpse of a 
thin warrior, obliquely refers 
to the pygmy moonrise. 

Grey plaques in white mind 
like snakeroots, glittering 
in dark gulleys of time!

Satish Verma