LIVING LEGEND

The flame will not die. 
I pursue the path of smoke 
the virtue of suffering 
gives the pure light. 
The book knows my inside truth 
and tells no one. I weep for the swallows, 
I could not feed. 
I lay one white 
stone for each death. 

You will scatter my ashes, 
in the abandoned land 
where silence walks 
and words lie like microcosm 
of contemporary hunger. 
Life was a cupful of tears. 
The voices always spilled challenging 
the fidelity of flowing water. 

The living legend turns in grave, 
I pray for peace 
I promised myself to stand erect 
when the quake comes. 
I will save the flora 
and the grass of dying earth. 
I ask for one more life 
to clear the debt & bleach my guilt.

Satish Verma