Catch a Butterfly

Deep lies the truth, unfathomed, 
you cannot touch it. 
Crossing the faceless matrix, 
do not reach the level, 
reasoning flattens the spikes. 
On sand, elixir falls 
like drops from awakening. 
Arising from sorrow, 
mustiness fills your eyes. 

This was truth or untruth, 
two strokes of madness, 
wedged between night and sun. 
Silence becomes an eloquent speech. 
Each day brings silly 
statements wearing artful masks. 
Commentary on a vision fails. 

Right versus wrong. 
The conents of conflict always 
linked the fear with poverty of a Being. 
The involuted self uncurls 
a scheme of war with a big world. 
Now the smiles catch 
a butterfly to immitate the colors.

Satish Verma