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

Bigotry, is that you with the lost numbers?

You collect the crowd and it will

The dark borders were shifting, rejecting

This was profanity. A dead club moss resurrects,

You can legitimate the loot. There will be no

Oh, templed god, why did you snare the palmer?

Let it go, do not touch it. You had been negating the bare truth.

The shades of dawn under the waning moon

Becoming fiercly personal with no physical contact,

What happens when you stop thinking?