Theme: Life


by Satish Verma
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A futurist virginity in black rose
was seeking posthumous award
for immoral kisses of thorns.
Unaware of lethal thighs
skipping the lunar landscape at night.
Were you going to leap over the mountains
curling across the glaciers of white pain?
I will extend the shadow of infinite truth,
when we talk about
the half-death of unborn hunger.


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