MESSAGE

And that did it. 
Many voices in a mayhem 
lost the face of lightening. 

The starlight woke in rain 
untainted by dust of beds 
encased in wilful folds. 

The tremors will not stop 
the knocking of speech, after 
an intimate kiss of the void. 

Talking of lonely peaks, 
whom I will not touch them in morning. 
Let the night take its revenge.

Satish Verma