Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Catching Myself

Defining yourself,
I wanted to know, how long
you can remain honest―
to yourself.

The craft of harvesting
will not stand the acid test.
What do you see when
there is good sunset?

Still combustible
a cinder gives off flames
inside you and inner silence
becomes bold.

In between the sentences,
the pause betrays the balance.
You cannot decipher―
the code of sacrifice.

The road sleeps.
Coming to peace with not
reaching at horizon,
when sky was drinking the lake.
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