CLAUSTROPHOBIA

For a patch of happiness 
you rushed into the arms 
of clouds. Only to fall back with tears. 
The glazing authority of moon 
hangs on the poverty of spiked wisdom. 
Betrayal is the norm of celestial thinking; 
how can you accept a dropp of death? 

What is your motive 
in watching the pain? 
A path, a tunnel, 
a precipice. The collage of purity 
has the innocence of sorrow. 
And truth, sails like a phoenix. 
There is complete silence. 
The flameless fire collapses 
lapping up the anger. 

Pouring out all the heart beats, 
emptying the mind 
darkness lowers the wheels 
between muscles and bones. 
Your body is eaten half by dusty thoughts. 
Claustrophobia chokes the little stanzas 
you are afraid, some one cares for you.

Satish Verma