![]() In Praise Of UnknowingA Poem by Satish Verma![]() The unthinkable, has happened.![]()
The unthinkable,
has happened. I am still alive. After the harvest moon, there were― many aspirants, to reach the Mars, when a lynx left the pug marks on their chests. First snow went deep in asylum. All gates were locked. © 2019 Satish Verma |
StatsAuthor
|