Rebirth of an anxiety,
of an abstract thought,
takes on the impossible of something
left between false and true.
Out of spite some body was betraying the life.
A bodiless lie becomes an imposter
beats the truth and walks away.
You, dumbfounded, discover a malignancy
in the roots of a crying tree.
The soil bacteria were taking over the grains.
The price of the sick crop, the insects,
the greed of the state, where the normal
man will go. The comets and the crabs
are circling the island. Scratch the prophecy,
and every man was turning against himself.
Satish Verma
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