Satish Verma > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

That inner probe― and access― was the need. I

Grazing on the clouds, moon was moving

It is pouring. You can feel, smell and touch

The finger and a ring― a story of bonhomie;

After the apocalypse, the fiefdoms were growing―

First listen to your heart. No poetry will walk tonight―

how would you die when the call comes?

Like a starfish― you are not a star, always opening

Do you need a divine witness― if I abdicate a claim

Under surveillance, the vegetable― lives on ventilator.