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

If a gadget turns you on, and I cannot

To live or not to live like a zero

Partly stripped, head shaven for a royal revelation of eternal scars.

Living, in the wounds,

The nightingale was very sad. Nobody

The shovel moves the wet earth The shovel moves the wet earth

Don’t let me go. over the cork, a bottle

A dark secret of double standard,

Deserting a shrine, in the swirling waters, I move, unbuilding

This city of musketeers. You are always having a bruising―