Generosity

It was one-off. I will not punish myself again for brazen, stone writing, girding the aneurism, after a long siege. An entire night was lost in repairing the blue vase. You want to cut off the coalfield. The gloom plunges deep. A swallow tweets for a passerby. In the heart of darkness,there was the fire, a purple flame, ready to suckle the unborn sun. the grass breaks the rock. I pray for the burns. Satish Verma