Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
Send Message

Searching Yourself

Only a wall was left
between us. How will―
we shake the hands?

The wholeness shattered,
lips begin a ground attack
under stray bullets.

You cannot abandon me,
wiping out the dark. I was in
you. How do we start saying goodbye?

Beyond the conventional
thoughts lies the divine world―
where you listen without a sound.

Sharing the nerves in
vanishing replies, questions
will rise like terrible ribs.

Salt and pepper. Black
and white. You live in gray shade
of private thirsts.
84 Total read