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Ascendancy

Seizing a chance in a trice, in one dark September night of apotheoses- a bird crashed in my lap. I would not know the virginity of the strange surrender. The windows were tall, with the black laces violating the sovereignty of light. I will not know you, will not call the black magic, will not transcend the body. The white lilies were staring down at water. Was the dawn nearby ? Satish Verma

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014




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Book: Shattered Sighs