BLACKWATER

A self-protecting game was going on. 
After the paternity test 
there was slow burning 
inside the moon. 
Earth heaved a big sigh. 
Blackwater was making a muddy sound. 

Embroidery was fading 
aftermoon. 
I open the window to uncover 
the chill. A young lass has jumped over 
from a flyover to meet a concrete end. 

The liberated soul of nation 
indulges in cocktails of free erotica. 
In beginning there was a sacred river; 
now in bed, dry bones 
were found soaked in release.

Satish Verma