RENAISSANCE

Will you tell me what it was 
the unknown of the known? 
When you step into the eyes of stangers 
you start talking without uttering a single word. 

Give me back the body, 
of dark pink matter 
to understand the god’s will. 
He was sitting in field of sugarcane. 

The petrol burns with hate 
in the necks of panthers. 
Tiger, tiger I look at my son coming back 
after encounter. 

The bleeding revolution has overturned 
tomorrow. No body knows where we are heading. 
The babies flick like tender candles 
inside the saints.

Satish Verma