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Theme: Life Share This Page
Slaughtered Dreams
by Satish Verma
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  It rained last night,
dampness giving a tumultuous pleasure the day before,
town was burning.
Weeping ashoka laden with smudges,
and sky was crimson red,
You could not avoid this heat and dust,
love and hate; sharing the cooling winds.
 
The patterns are changing, what to redeem, what not.
Trampled by death everywhere,
frightened words go for a dignified fall.
We are trading our bruises for moorings.
A happy notebook is blasted, and motif goes into exile.

World moves in circle, it will touch you again
A strange divinity puts you in oblivion.
The spirit walks some steps with you,
and then disappears.
My grass burns in front of me.
This has been a festival of slaughtered dreams.


 
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June 02, 2012
More By: Satish Verma
Views: 832      Comments: 0




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