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

The nephrite syndrome. I will not change the―

After tasting the homemade poison, the walls,

Hiding from each other your prosperity.

A desire spews the rocks. Between two moments

There was a sharp rise of indecent things. On the

The upbeat moon becomes dazed, when you

Like a wax moth, me― sensing your footsteps

The pungent smell of dry smoldering leaves, greet you

Time entombed, a negative film, showing the

That obscene stare aggravates the silicon