Non-Story

by Satish Verma   Feb 18, 2016


Questions are the answers
and answers are the questions.
They never die. The words
collect the dripping wounds.
Memories emmigrate to wasteland
and the city drowns in a lake.
Our infallible pride has no challenge
trust the precarious teeth.

Beyond eloquence life drifts
from unknown to unknown.
A fruitless search in a grey winter
of thinking trees. Tall,
beautiful, but faith has taken a U- turn.
The span of obscurity
reflects a twisted wisdom
burning the books of tomorrow.

The fear, depression
and brutal game of corruptible views
I deal with a non-story
of cultivated meditation.
The duality of hate
and love, bread and hunger.
I stand on a quicksand
to balance the beach
and find the missed links.

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