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Wary Of Tomorrow

Wary Of Tomorrow

A Poem by Satish Verma

A moth love was evolving, without a flame.

A moth love was evolving, 
without a flame. 
You are going to bang the wall. 

It was too early 
to sing aubade. Night was 
still rolling on the leaves. 

A tall tree failed, 
to send the message of moon drop. 
How will I read my palm now? 

At funeral, a crowd 
waits for the bride. The groom 
jumped off the dam. 

No music was left 
between the lips. Angst 
was palpable in stumps.

© 2019 Satish Verma

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Added on January 30, 2019
Last Updated on January 30, 2019
Tags: evolving