Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Spiral Descent

Where the laughter ends,
sorrow makes an entry.
The black cloud drifts towards you,
a gift of unknown to nameless.
The sacred bond of blissful ignorance.
I remember that I am still alive today,
my friends are gone.
I see a light on the hill.

So beautiful in its death,
a song lies on my lips
I face the world
with a wound in my eyes.
Space of many years
between me & my defeat.
Time has not come for farewell.
Cannot afford the luxury
of breaking down & then disintegrate.

Alone I watch you in fascination,
the slow spiral descent.
My watch stops again & again.
Suddenly I start speaking the truth
about the deception & the lacerating wounds.
There is a longing for a frozen moon
and a melody melting in the air.
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