Miracles Don't HappenA Poem by Satish VermaPart of me― like a morpheme, you are leaving.
Part of me- like a morpheme,
you are leaving. Now I will stand without legs. The slain shadow moves from face to face. I have yet to complete my chapter. I know what you have to offer. But I wanted more of your intimate thoughts about life and death. You have frequent mood swings. Sometimes you wanted to go insane in this clever and wise world. I trace the terrain of the inaccessible mount, where one day you will find broken hull. © 2020 Satish Verma |
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