CONCORDIA

Peace at stake, 
it worked. 
Withdrawal of rubber dolls 
playing with fire. 

Empty bowls in lunar month. 
Concords were flying very high 
noiselessly crossing the peaks 
of great grudges. 

Pure golden hair -
of grief. 
It really was miracle. 
Bald eagle was waiting. 
Enough time to steer a murder. 

The irresistable desire 
to rub with a paranoid. 
Extracting a genius from mediocre genera. 
Life had become too genteel.

Satish Verma