Theme: Life

You Will Not Create Death

Was it the end of senseless 
of the rainbow, 
crawling towards the destruction?

Pathography hurts when 
you look at the sea for a 
bipolar thrust. There was 
an absent father. 

You cannot touch the wreath, 
it burns in your hands. Where 
will you place it when 
it was raining words? 

Ah, an accidental incest now 
will spawn the half-siblings 
in an archipelago of opinions. 
There were no birthday celebrations.


More By  :  Satish Verma

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