![]() The FugitiveA Poem by Satish Verma![]() Bending the gravity you start falling upward.![]()
Bending the gravity
you start falling upward. There was― no distinction between earth and sky. Unsaid thoughts without words blend. A sign language conveying the ageless twinge of a faceless spirit. Against the outrage of morals, flatness becomes deep. The quality suffers. Inception invites the crime. Strange things happen. Man becomes a fireball, torching the domes, shrines and littering the streets with newborns. © 2019 Satish Verma |
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