MESSAGE WRITTEN OFF

Any need to stitch an acid, 
bare designed, in endoplasm, 
when moon was walking like a full-breasted bride? 
The synthetic feat was neat and clinical, 
yet I want to turn back and talk about 
something which heals the spirit of winged sorrow. 

Marrow implant blooms like pink dough. 
Can you walk straight, 
think clean? 
Organs for sale; mannequins are real flesh, bones, heart. 
Roasted incense of sick birds floats - 
you become a possessed iris. 

Can you do something? 
My limbs are aching, terrific pain. 
Want to run like a stricken buck, 
go for fasting like a schizophrenic, 
become a letter undelivered 
and message written off! 

What is the truth then? 
I cannot afford to accept the defeat!

Satish Verma