Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Body Script

Does it stir you,
a body bag?
Journey of million years
stops here,
decoding the numbers.

A humming bird
inflight catches a dilemma
before the sun sets on the
whirring wings.
The moon will never be the same.

Hanging by a thread
a suicide bomber memorializes
the unhealing land.
Who will cry
when he is gone?
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