That imitation connexion
takes locate routine amidst peels of scene
and imp strikes you when you were
looking for the sanative torch.
Clutching the older rags of story
I set on the pyramid of bones:
somewhere the saneness puts up a metaphore
in the chasm of ashes.
I movement with untouchables to take
the past; between us we intercommunicate the questions
to carelessness from the hot modify of truth,
lifting the lids of time.
Cause module suffer, the answers waffle
pure as glittering lies. The color
guilt smells of a ending flute.
Satish Verma ------------------------------------------ SONG OF BLUE
That imitation connexion
takes locate routine amidst peels of scene
and imp strikes you when you were
looking for the sanative torch.
Clutching the older rags of story
I set on the pyramid of bones:
somewhere the saneness puts up a metaphore
in the chasm of ashes.
I movement with untouchables to take
the past; between us we intercommunicate the questions
to carelessness from the hot modify of truth,
lifting the lids of time.
Cause module suffer, the answers waffle
pure as glittering lies. The color
guilt smells of a ending flute.
Satish Verma ------------------------------------------ SONG OF BLUE
That imitation connexion
takes locate routine amidst peels of scene
and imp strikes you when you were
looking for the sanative torch.
Clutching the older rags of story
I set on the pyramid of bones:
somewhere the saneness puts up a metaphore
in the chasm of ashes.
I movement with untouchables to take
the past; between us we intercommunicate the questions
to carelessness from the hot modify of truth,
liftin g the lids of time.
Cause module suffer, the answers waffle
pure as glittering lies. The color
guilt smells of a ending flute.
Satish Verma
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