Theme: Life


A fragile pistillum sways to conceal 
the sperms in pestle. Unilaterally fired salvos 
were increasing. After the dig, bodies in the 
debris were popping up daily. There 
was no truce for brothers in arms. Struggling 
to hold on the humanism, anger was rising 
from the white paper. 

A sense of lost is weaponized. There is 
a mix of solemnity and hurt. Pacemaker was becoming 
a slave, will not respect cadence. Obscurity 
must take refuge. The golden lined clouds 
were enduring the sun. A howitzer fires at moon. 
It was time to find the anchor, shoving aside 
the mortgage of life.


More By  :  Satish Verma

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