Theme: Life


The spirit hovers. 
I am not interested in a 
séance. Let me come face to face 
with the book to share clean 
or unclean thoughts. 

Not able to print my deep 
angst. A clash of cultures. I 
will call the unprinted scream. The 
dismembered limbs begin 
a dance of unfolding 
the hate. 

It was a jig
Of scaffoldings for the 
peacocks to shed their wings. 
Everyone was falling for the green-gold 
to be embossed on the dust 
cover of life.


More By  :  Satish Verma

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