Satish Verma
The Hostage
Under siege,
tied to a bomb-
you were talking to yourself.
The violence inside you
had beaten you mercilessly.
The text has dried up.
Steal a glance-
and find out the blood spots
on the Mars, the god of war.
The sound in the vase, was becoming louder
of coins.
Now you will walk-
on my dead body.
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