ROLLING STONES

Between the sun and moon
you come to transcend
the frescoes on the sky
for a lost chance.

It fuels the anxiety.
When do I meet you
in dark to explore the
lightning rod.

The inside enemy will
allude to self-immolation.
Where will end the
agony of man?

The carnage continues
unabated. The crowds are thinning.
Lurking men on fimbriae dump the veils.
Who will invite them today?

Satish Verma