![]() ResemblanceA Poem by Satish Verma![]() It bends― the chastity― the illicit vows. O, let me![]()
It bends― the chastity―
the illicit vows. O, let me become an artisan. I will ensue― a new harvest of sandalwood. Don’t light the joss sticks. There is no abstract presence― of him. Nobody knows― you, better than me. Search the― magnum opus and you will find that― man has failed… to clear the debris of the Fort. Strange happenings, still take place. Grass is still green … in solitude, a poem takes birth. © 2016 Satish Verma |
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