Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Movements

you bring pink roses everyday
from nowhere

with an oblique smile,
some questions have remained unanswered

when I plunge in silence
you won’t stop talking

anger is its own failure
for breaking the door

where was the need for honour
killing of flesh

I will come out of the oblivion
once you pray for the retreat

time was running out for the sky
tornado has started moving
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