BRUTAL TIME

Innocent inside the circle, 
you reached nowhere. 
Dirty hands on the knob 
kept the century locked. 

Carbon footprints were deepening 
under the sun, blue bird 
circling in vain. The jealous 
moon exiled to black hole. 

The dust of the brutal time 
settles on the umbrella. I am shivering. 
The lies, the religion, the horrible 
facts smell of the million deaths. 

Who mode the tapestry of violence 
into boneless truth and hairless 
legs of prayers? Freedom escapes 
through the scrolls of flames.

Satish Verma