I am writing off all the symbols,
will not wait for the judgement
and cross the boundaries.

I am not you,
I am not him,
a blemished soul
it wants to be set free.

Conjugating fever at large
colliding, colliding with guts of needles.

Tasting ambrosia of pain,
oedipus asking for another name.

I am offloading the ancient guilt
give me some time.

I do not want any clouds to follow me,
my words are scented with streaks of blood
and shine when only the cinders arrive.

Satish Verma