In Searing StateA Poem by Satish VermaIn Searing State
A bit, like you
I wanted to live, making my own rains. When you will not yield, I would come to meet my nemesis. The life flings away your innings. Still you were trying to play with flames. Like sun's corona, you were encircling me in my eclipse. Somewhere dandelions spread the magic, like your spindle fingers. But weird thoughts hover again to extract the price of lost moons. © 2022 Satish Verma |
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