Talking To Monkshood

a poem by Satish Verma, India

In search of
Nirvana. To blow out
or you want to be extinguished
after exploding the pod.

History betrays.
Its stout stings cause blues
I love the wars but
not your bad blood.

There were smothered screams,
and there were innumerable faces.
You dig out the charm-
for remaining anonymous.

Kneeling before invisible
god, the absurd icons,
you start whimpering.
Does it bring liberation from
one trap to another?

O god, we run after you
when there was no answer.

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