To Mourn The Death Of Soul

I was at unease.
The violence grips the
daises, the grass and lilies.

This human race
wants to revert the suffering
of cacti in rains.

Under the eyes
shade, it was thorns and thorns
all the life.

I have come, I am
hurt and I bleed.
Darkness burns in my brain.

I forgive you for
all the flaws and all the
crimes to give me peace.

Satish Verma