Ungoing

Incredible moon 
tips the hallucinating tree. 
Lake propels the waves to limbs 
and strips to bank. 

I wear my lightning 
and enter into a process 
outside body. The night 
betrays and goes back to sun. 

There is a frame of truth to be claimed 
in a black sac, who slashed 
his neck for the deity 
of widening freedom. 

Turn right, where the trembling 
nation stands to pick up the fallen heroes. 
I am going to write an epitaph 
with my blood on the wind chimes.

Satish Verma