IMAGES RHYMED

This was
a catastrophic state.
I had started
questioning myself.

The scientia implodes.
You swallow the pill
and become fluid.

A clock stops
I would be angry,
if the hands don't catch
the numbers.

Ancient pain.
You open the door
and light disappears.

I will draw
your face on sand
and then kill
the wind.

Satish Verma