BLACK AND WHITE

The nihil extract seeps into, 
hungry roots of thoughts, 
doubts the doubter. 
I do not abandon the 
flame of nil shadows. 
Try to find the way back to home, 
where I was born, 
breaking my leash. 

Equanimity suffered when 
continuity bargained for 
substance, while I opted for 
emptiness where the space was enough 
to turn the pages of life, 
and I listened to the unhitched 
voices of virgin lips. 

Moon shadow in a self portrait 
hangs on a tear 
but I worshipped the sun; 
Its heat melting my contexts, 
entombed in scaffoldings of hope. 
The crisp day witnessed 
a miracle when no body 
complained in black & white.

Satish Verma