Theme: Life


by Satish Verma
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It was lack of contusion.
The relief had not come.
Hours were on
after the nobility moved
on faulted track.
Methane was rising.
It was white death:
people were coming,
people were going.
Pure and muddy,
the treachery was like trace gases in a mine.
Anytime the explosion will take place.
The children were shrinking
I do not speak.
Watch the flowerpots flying.
All the celestial deities
have entered the lake.
Take a quick dip in the nude serenity.
Time was slipping out from the aquarium.


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