Hydrangia was in full bloom
when I left.
Machine had failed me,
when I was looking at the
third eye of the sun
in crimson sky of west.

I was running away from myself
keys were chasing unbroken latches
the moon was yet to be born
in blackness.

The foetus turns
strikes the womb with violent kicks
who was the father of unknown child?

Let’s go and meet in dementia.
Three cheers for the wedding boot
turns the man into a snail.

Death now enters
to cross the threshold of tears
and listen to soulful
nightingale.

Satish Verma