Satish Verma
Rolling Stones
Between the sun and moon
you come to transcend
the frescoes on the sky
for a lost chance.
It fuels the anxiety.
When do I meet you
in dark to explore the
lightning rod.
The inside enemy will
allude to self-immolation.
Where will end the
agony of man?
The carnage continues
unabated. The crowds are thinning.
Lurking men on fimbriae dump the veils.
Who will invite them today?
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