To Be Sincere

Being a witness
to blue moon, you wanted
to meet the black death
of sun, when there was
neither dark, nor light.

From the painful
encounters to frozen tears
I want to rewrite my story.

You will not cry
if I hold the pen. It
is sharper than the sword, when
the words bleed.

I will wear your
eye's color. Someone dies
between the lines. Life
has become very touchy.

You love a
dream beyond the thoughts.
I fill in the frame. Neither acceptance,
nor denials.

Satish Verma