CONVERSATION

There was no end 
to looking inside. 
I was crumbling. 

Unnamed homing in 
of anguish, 
not knowing me. 

The wasted questions 
of revival. 
A depleted dawn of a failed sun? 

A river war 
between two hills 
for a moon? 

Time to ask 
motor neurons, 
why night had failed at ending? 



Satish Verma