Satish Verma
Poetic
In fending off, the questions,
after mutilation,
a maverick was asking,
would you go beyond the species?
Escape was not an
abstract. It was a concrete evidence
against the bleed and hurt.
Invocation was becoming absolute necessity.
The poetry of death has
many stanzas. The tribe wants
it share, but I will write
about the beauty of dying sun.
Silence was a true poem.
You speak some inaudible words.
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