ImperfectionA Poem by Satish VermaFor image breaking I exile myself
For image breaking
I exile myself for one half-god to lick my scars. I have not touched you even for ages― in words. The door knobs remained unturned. I let go the dust. Time was not ripe for me. Still I have to find my eternal muse. I will strive, will look around, to smell your― presence. A warrior always waits for the graceful exit. © 2020 Satish Verma |
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