Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Intense Poetry

Breaking the path
by random steps, you move,
and thoughts make a ritual dance.
In a wingless flight,
a cosmic gloom envelops you.
You try to stop the dark tremors,
Yet you don’t feel safe in a crowd.

Life has changed
it does not touch the younder.
The brain does not work,
and memory is not authentic.
Emotions are bruised,
and time is becoming ruthless.
Knowledge explodes the myths,
and hurls the naked truths.

In a corner of my heart, a song dies
I refuse to listen, I decline to see,
a world crumbling before my eyes.
My unbeliefs engage,
the intense poetry,
of my turbulent mind,
to understand the virulent pain.
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