He would set them free,
words. On cityscape.
For extended release of connotations.
Part of him, not his way,
and become weaponless.
Once the silence descended,
nothing was left to be known.
Between doubt and belief
anguish was palpable.
Truth was a capped fossil.
The rumors and denials
were similar. Fractured time.
From lie to lie watercolor ticks the clock,
fells the tribe of seekers
and breaks the mirror.
Satish Verma
No comments:
Post a Comment