Poetry

Satish Verma


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9 september 2020

Falling Debris

Purity of thoughts,
must limit the knowledge-

collective withdrawal from
the valley of words.

Each life you had changed
the bed, to meet the god, in different attires.

Hanged from the roof
to understand the pangs of poverty.

The unborn century will wait
for the collapse of identity.

Man has gone too far carrying
the burden of acoustics.






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