Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Under Acid Attack

By not listening
to the voiceless,
I was hurting myself.

Taking off the
golden ring―
to become a monk.

Crunching the leaves
of ginkgo―
to remember my eternal pains.

Time to pack your
nothings. Intrigue has
endorsed the white lies.

When I become unknown to
you, will you erase the
scars of the sunset?
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