Satish Verma
Unconquering
Waiting for the unwaiting
to appear. The green pigeons
will reduce the palace to rubble.
Could it be like― the
first man to die has become
a savior?
I hold your tender
face in my hands to
read the axioms.
Mumbling something―
Inaudible, I will address,
the upright past.
An unborn love child
Kicks at the walls of the womb.
It was time to see the world.
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