As if pruning was not enough.
After severance from the peak,
the ladder was becoming
aloof and murky.
Acid burn on the day
of breaking confidentiality.
An imperfect mirror was
wiping out the cloud, all night.
You are going to take on the
starless sky. A moon was
left out in the stillness of black sheen.
You are now poking at the globes.
Give me a pen to lift the
remorse. I was desperate to become
human. Death was looking at me
with great amusement.
Satish Verma
