Poetic

In fending off, the questions,
after mutilation,
a maverick was asking,
would you go beyond the species?

Escape was not an
abstract. It was a concrete evidence
against the bleed and hurt.
Invocation was becoming absolute necessity.

The poetry of death has
many stanzas. The tribe wants
it share, but I will write
about the beauty of dying sun.

Silence was a true poem.
You speak some inaudible words.

Satish Verma