Window

By: Satish Verma

Always resentful,
we do not think clean.
No 'being' at all, the other, except human flesh;
and jaundiced skin.

Withdrawl, self negation, a perpetual obtusity;
dying without death; a daily vision
of misplaced destiny.
Bloodless shadow of stunted life.

Cult will breed the filthy laughter
of golden teeth. Grizzly face rule the crowd and
answers locked in the chest
would betray the seeker.

Why the 'nothing', deserves pain?
Permanent doorkeeping for consciousness?
Irreparable loss of endurance and
exhausting the grace of understanding?

Dementia, a complete disaster of last journey,
a trespassing of untitled landscape.
Nowhere to reach, days unnumbered
You count the bars in the window.

SATISH VERMA

Poetry
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