Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Wisdom

I will deceive the immortality
in my inadequacy, between myself
and a messy belief.

The sky cracks open.
One unreal moon
slaps the dark clouds.

You want to rest on my shoulder
till eternity.
The silence leads to nothingness.

Over the rifts, space and time
eyes stalk the hands.
You cannot write your name.

You will not move a step,
I will not stay for long.
The distance will defend us both.
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