Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Stone Eyes

The wayward words
will not make any difference.
I am filling the pit
with singing stones after the assault.

The killer drip levels the pain.

Karyons? Will you
crack the code of downward
spiral? Nuts. The
nuclear intimacy goes berserk.

The nodding consent
of a fallen star, was ready
for decapitation.

Trash. You always return
to tragedy. Why don't you shut
the eyes and become a clover?
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