Satish Verma
Standing Out From The Crowd
The weight of charity
sits on my shoulder.
I call for healing
on my terms.
We will divide the
funeral rites for undead―
nourshing survivor's massive,
sin. My path to truth opens.
Chasing a butterfly for
redemption, stuns me.
You were born of your―
own seed.
The guilt ultimately
overtakes. You initiate
unloading the vowels. Words
start flying without wings.
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