CORONATION

The honed voice spreads the blanket, opens

demonic door to belly of ship sprawled on sea,

outraged by waves

froathing hysteria of darkness gives an escape.

 

Withering moon stands on horizon

in deep thoughts

to move or not to move.

 

A thorn in the bush

gives we a lethal prick

I open the blind gates of fame and unhappening.

 

I am becoming taller than the pain

I was your name.

come to say goodby today.

 

Barefoot I walk on water

forgetting the rags of clouds.

Today is my coronation.

 

Charisma of moth will exhibit

an outside self.

my desire will sleep for centuries.

 

 

SATISH VERMA