Remote From Sin

In my darkness
you were my hope
in the calamity of
moon's eclipse.

The blinded iris
weeps for the sun, which went
invisible for ages.

Will you carry a cinder
on your palm,
to make a hole―
for looking down at earth?

My planet is dying
under my feet. I will not
take water as my kin.
Sky was my priest.

When you accept the
surrender of infallible,
my life completes the circle.
You turn into a child
to remain human.

Satish Verma