Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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In Trepidation

It was in reach for,
a chilling sensation.
A flame of the moon.

The world shrinks.
You become ready
for the direst consequences.

You deserve to be hurt
in the arms of truancy,
without a trace of remorse.

The wounded breast.
It wanted to disappear―
and come back in dark.

Frozen, the repeat hymn.
It lives in my heart.
How can I forget you,
O, my tormentor!
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