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The Fall

Moon has possessed me again. I have become dervish. It hints at shedding the leaves. Flame of forest wants to glow at noon. It was a genuine withdrawl from honeycomb. You wanted to taste the bitter. Hexagonal life has lost the meaning. I am ready to demolish the path. Why did the moral debate start, on the mothballed book ? Satish Verma

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016




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Book: Shattered Sighs