16 march 2020

poetry

Satish Verma
Satish Verma

The Daily Ritual

The cells,
climb the fame,
unperceived.
 
A bit of nose, blue eyes,
jugglery of stances.
You catch the body art.
 
The eagle
dives, for a legal kill.
Hail, the beautiful
execution.
 
To shut the voice,
you bring in, snow,
white blanket for every
one deprived.

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