21 march 2012
Choking
Like a quivering leaf climbing
unreachable thighs of a cloud
in naked shelter of sun.
I lament the fall
of a colossus
who would not live in a glass house.
Ash smeared on face
a name walks on the book
of barefoot poems.
Today I am going to morph
into a death sentence
for an uncommitted crime.
Who had lost himself
in unslept awakening
of a disaster?
Satish Verma
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