Crossroads

At crisis of 
inquiry, you search 
the questions. 

Life throws up a savage violence. 
Bruising our psychies 
we try to know each other. 

At the end of the road, 
we try to start a conversation. 
There was a huge presence― 
of some unseen force. 

Much ado, looking 
through each other. Would 
you call me again? 

Let there be a brutal 
confession. I take back 
my words and rewrite a poem.