20 june 2024

poetry

Satish Verma
Satish Verma

It Was My Pain

Behind your time
assassin walks
I will sit in a wake.

You had many
faces. The slave value
was increasing.

The impact craters
were coming up in dark
morning of realization.

Harmony suffers.
Explosions come from sky, as
if two stars have collided.

The frail peace
always grieves at the end
of the embraces.

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