Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Triage

We should go and
meet the fire god to release us
free from the moment
of truth.

In space you want to
weave a daydream, making
me ready for the kiss of destiny.

This was the journey
of bliss unlocked from
the dark tunnel of sinless prayers.

Will you plant some
seeds on the palm of future?
The barefoot
refugees want to divide
the body of water.

We go thirsty when the
rains come. Why
of red color.
Were there predatory clouds?
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