When you were learning 
how to kill, 
somebody was beheading my faith. 

There was lint in my eyes 
and the lathyrism 
of numbers. 

In raw emotions 
you took away everything from me 
I was left with an entire whole. 

Still I will owe you 
a minus zero when fight for numbers 
will break out. 

Who are those people, 
that were sharing the divide? 
How much will remain when you divide death?

Satish Verma