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

I would be riding your stumps― to

Listening from the walls what was not sacred.

Undone in dark you strike back with ardor.

It was not ending, not beginning this fracas,

How would you describe the stampede, when there was

Another woman sits on rose hips

There should not have been any question marks on your

In your big eyes my mission ends.

Strangly enough― it was the most silent night…

Telling a big no was easier than conveying