Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Who Gives Up?

Mix the color of moon dust
with the color of earth
you will find―
a fringe of untruths.
No one was left unstained.

Meltdown in harm
way begins, burning yourself―
without flames.

What was your last
awakening? I would ask
myself, waiting for a stretched
night for a long sleep.

The heartbeats miss
with every skip of god's name.
Slices and maneuvers―
become the right of day.

Unpeeling my eyes
I catch my shadow.
A naked truth weeps.
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