Poetry

Satish Verma


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12 december 2015

The Watchman

Eyes locked, slowly we drift
knowing or not knowing;
A conversation dips in laxity.

The time stood around, eye-deep,
unbelieving steel, which had bent
forgetting the fortress of body.

A narcissus weeps without eyes
waiting for the evidence.
A raging moon will not come.

When nightingale stops singing
how will I find your home?
Far away half-naked sun was hiding.

Ungrateful century splits the human
species. Genes are jumping out.
The watchman had left the door.






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