Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Generation

untouchable that bleeds, lonely
in black sky, that haunting moon
walks gingerly on quivering sea:
lovers killed in shame in broad daylight
by gunshots before a crowd; some possessed
maniacs turning the clock back: history
lets go the leaves, the autumn,

trees stand naked, not malevolent
but want to poach upon the wrong side
of faith; my vision starts failing,
crosses the river in ancient lingua franca
joining the broken hearts

i was apprehensive, clouds come and
go, each death becomes a daisy
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