Satish Verma > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

Butchers were in panic. The bulls are coming.

He used to dream of date palms, covering

Red horizon― had bite-marks

Darkness always weighs heavy. And light was weightless.

Under the pear tree a rape survivor

The prediction goes awry. I wipe away an exotic

Strange, in silence, I lose my way, my thoughts.

It haunts. You still want to see the―

The swamp was in boil. It was raining

An earthen lamp in loneliness