Poetry

Satish Verma


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4 february 2015

FROM A DOT

One final leap
from high solitude
into city of dusk,
takes you to presence
of charred remains
of a fallen god.

A housewife moves in the kitchen
to prepare a farewell dinner
for the encounter of fatal descent.

A paranormal parting
to comeback to body of truth,
as you pick up your words.

Space odyssey in eyes,
palms folding,
to receive the punishment.

No complaints, no grieving
conclusion of foregone stopping.
A line will start from a dot.






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