Day Of Judgement

In last journey he wanted to have
a free run without rumors
of reconciliation.

From years back he watched –
friends, disappeared one by one. He
became his own enemy. The ravines

were waiting for the sacrificial throw
of a bound martyr.
Between being and action

he was ready for the kiss of death –
from a ferocious opponent,
whose chest spread like a hood of cobra –

ready to strike. His ghost will walk now
on the clouds, days in, days out,
to read the black lips of blissful time.

poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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