Perpetual stasis
in blank stares.
Who was yawning to moon?
Balmy night will unlock
the secrets of graphic images.
Life casts a spell on you.
Like a round worm
in search of a ceramic cow.
Let me mix the money with fame.
The unfelt pleasure
of a crooked script –
in twilight zone. Every person
was wearing a cloud. Deftly
you break the urn of ashes
to find the stolen eyes.
Satish Verma
