Thinking Deep

Have not we reached
maximus? The perception
lingers on... and on.

Noways. Almost,
caught in the pincers trap.

The handcuffed
blue moon hides his face
after the guilt was washed.

The courtyard was
cleaned off the
stains of the blood tears.

Nihilism was not
mine. You had forced
the sweet tongue in me.

No need to shut
the door. The keeper was
dead. The bell will
not toll for the end today.

Satish Verma