Paper Wreaths Poem by Satish Verma

To understand the life
after the flames die, I will
meet you in conflict zone.
Do not come with a tag.

Marked for a kill
I overturn the dead body of a cobra
to find my image in the glazed
eyes. My willingness was gone.

In a loop, I do not want
to ask any questions. Cannot
you understand, what
I do not want to say?

The empty glass does
not lie. You did not climb
the silken hills to be in a mausoleum.
I will not make my tomb.