30 august 2021
Dying Flames
When white mushrooms
come in procession
after the rains,
you bring back my ache―
O pink rose
words fall like birds.
Caparisoned, the
moon was rising from
the sand dunes, like a
camel after the festival of kiss
of love. The singed bank
of the lake was submerged in tears.
Fold your wings, O peacock,
clouds are going back home.
3 may 2024
0305wiesiek
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Justice PureSatish Verma
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AmnesiaSatish Verma
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Pan pokląskwa w ostatnichJaga
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CompromisedSatish Verma
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Uśmiech z trawkąJaga
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By KissesSatish Verma
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The EntitySatish Verma