Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Pellets Of Frozen Pain

Becoming wolverine,
to find the mutant gene.
What I wanted was, to find
a companion.

You had moved on―
reviving the ontogeny.
Struggling with your mystery,
a god changes his norm.

Always― failed to know
myself, there was a nagging
question. Why? You accept
and then mutilate the new born faith.

The animal instinct rises to hate―
your own species for liberation.
I dare not to confess
the role of flesh in blaming the spirit.

A crisis renews the
holiness to hide behind
the words of a current avatar.
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