A Squall RoarsA Poem by Satish VermaA Squall Roars
I don't want to take
my words bad. Where do I keep them in burning house? * It simmers, the sandy path to bury you alive in hot truths. No end of beginning. * Who does fall, which has no height? Moonlight spreads on hot lava of tears. © 2023 Satish Verma |
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