Satish Verma
Life Moves On
You make me give up too easily
without a fight. I will not
ask any questions.
The elite mercy you are
endowed with, green eyes,
invite me for a daunting embrace.
It cracked under the chariot
on runway. The wings scattered,
I will not be able to fly now.
One day, I gave you my dagger
to put it my heart.
You had tied my hands for real.
Overreached by words of
mouth, a quill becomes a
pen, waiting about carnage.
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