Satish Verma
Fair Play
When God kings come―
down stealthly,
it is your waking time.
You had never counted the awards.
Refrained from watching the oblation.
When blood pooled on
the floor, you were holding
a love child of moon
and earth.
Do you think a collateral
damage will ensue, when you
chart out the trajectory of missiles?
The incredible ink will not
go dry on the tongue, when you
read a ghazal of indomitable
pen.
Today I climb a red
mountain to know my height.
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