Satish Verma
Old Maxims
This was a twisted ladder
for reduction of poverty,
which climbs the steps during
methane breach.
An absent presence will
snatch away, your unconscious
surrender. The scent had
made a wall of its own.
A summer fall incites the
book makers. The naming was
a secret bet. The dead will
never recall the skeletons.
Spawning an army of robots,
will you go to the volcano mount
to offer a living bait?
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