![]() Holiest DilemmaA Poem by Satish Verma![]() Holiest Dilemma![]()
Somedays with
human touch, I will talk to white roses with blood spots. This was inner beauty. The ferns start walking to cover the wounds of earth. A sea horse stands erect in sea to salute the warship. Where we are going? When you don't leave your thumb print, the song of nightingale is lost. How do you want to die in the hands of deaf and dumb god? © 2024 Satish Verma |
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