Karmic Influence Poem by Satish Verma

Under surveillance, the vegetable―
lives on ventilator.
All doors were shut― for the
dark― to remain inside.

The spastic breathing with―
rising chest, delivers the
nuances of death. Are you
sure― it was easier to live?

Asking the destiny to wait―
at the door. You can write
your own epitaph―
on the dust― for posterity.

I am coming home to collect―
your letters― you were
writing to me daily― but
never dared to post.