Blistering Attack
Again,
talking of your blue blood,
and your mythical images,
in the domain
of fiction.
It was not,
a hunger offshoot,
of the yellow metal and
brown body. Something was sinister
in the loud slogans.
The God’s images,
were for sale on the lake’s beach.
Huddles together, small stones
enveloped in fog,
wait for the burial.
Satish Verma
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