EPILEPTIC TRUTH

When I touched your pshyche, 
my completeness wavered. 
In the empty words 
and hollow thoughts. 
The road to my dream house burned. 
I longed to meet my flame. 

You were listening to declaration of truth. 
It was a refuge, 
there was no evidence 
of any movement of humanity. 
My soft mind took the imprint 
of golden spaces between 
the dark alleys of earth. 
The skeletons of history remained unclaimed. 

Remembering your trust 
My attachment floats. Anxiety 
of seeking. The dust smears 
the face of epileptic truth. 
The clogged arteries of mundane heart twitch. 
There wasn’t room for sentiments. 
Moment to moment I travelled 
to break the silence in vain.

Satish Verma