Satish Verma
Questioning Again
Writing,
a blood code.
Manipulating the taint.
Path,
towards the violence,
had the tribal instinct.
Scent,
of testosterone,
was the key thread.
You,
will not know, what
I conceive of the coming onslaught.
Constellation,
was ready to strike.
I am not myself today.
O, life, we will never know each other.
https://truml.com