No Revenge

Penultimately,
I pick up my choice
of not accepting my defeat.

The grades were falling.
Yet my limbs move
on fine grains of salt.

I will write, blue names
with chalk
on the blackboard of―

a teacherless life.
The disasters had helped me
to redefine the attachments.

The jail-break was
imminent Moon was coming
out from the nemesias.

Satish Verma