Poetry

Satish Verma


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1 november 2022

Benign Guilts

Will you maintain
fidelity in a time of war,
when the stars were burning?

Extravagantly, I paint
the moon blue
on your pale face.

Unspeakable was
the terror. You never had
the nightmare to
frighten the sculptor.

The race will never
end. Nobody wants to
be defeated by a savior
in the province of clovers.

Who would forget the black rock,
from where we
jumped onto the flames?






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