By: Satish Verma

Something to leave
for you. Don’t pull the other
end of the string.

Dedicated to the invincible,
I raise a toast for a theorist,
for not calling me back.

Shall I move away
from the road overflowing
with the grievers ? One by one
the baby steps were dying.

Full of sparks, my scorched
gait will take me to
shut door of vanity.

The sun turns you into
a deaf and dumb faith,
which never reached the moon.