Theme: Life

Where the Lies are Born?

Entrails were sucked by grief and pleasure bruised;
beyond the possible I aspired to find meaning of life.
A will to reject unbearable waste, I trim humiliation.
Time scares by taking revenge, breaking the inner serenade,
and I climb the doubts...
Heartache persists without revelation.
No bitterness descends.
I dip my fingers in blood to write a flaming entity.
Tell me where the masks are assembled?
Where the lies are born?


More By  :  Satish Verma

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