Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Dares The Storm

The pain out-thinks every moment,
all over the body
I wander in a solitary walkway.
There is nothing between mind
and brain. Whole prosperity of thoughts
curves easily. The body
spends all the internal wealth
to gain a humble peace.
The rambling melancholia
pales into white lava.

The fatal fear follows you
like a hot light. The pursuit
of incense, the chase of
beautiful icon’s cleavage brings
the charm. Speaking about the ecstasy,
about the shapeless pleasure,
the ultimate opposite of
sacredness becomes instant
liberation, from any symbol.

The contents of the dumb
days are burning. Peace
never returns. Prayer
and worship wakes the child
inside you. Flesh denies
the natural desire. You
cannot accept the corrupt barometer
of obedience. It dares the storm,
gathers the momentum
and kisses the slayer.
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