Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Screaming Larks

Abuzz with profanities.
There were gene faults in your
conversation; when the
ice cap was melting.

It should not have happened. The
sea was creeping in my veins.
I will hold back the floods
with my weak hands and strong roots.

The shifting sands and deep
flaws in melanoma distribution,
makes you caste away. The ultimate
lullaby will find death at the door.

Let me commute my frequency
into zero. The worst was yet to
come. I will have no fingers left to
lift your name.
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