EMPTINESS

I identify myself with death which

will not stop coming.

There is no need to call for souls.

Winds are flowing in opposite direction

and clouds are scattering away.

Sun will soon be hiding behind the woods.

Softly, purring, death is lying in wait,

In stupor I touch its wings.

Disillusionment with painted foreheads,

more like the broken toys

brings a vast emptiness.

Still I am faithful to a commitment

keeping the door open

to lit up the dark room.

SATISH VERMA