Blue Valley

A tiny doubt sends out the solvos. Self on fire, you want to bail out the hierarchy. Physically imperfect, a star ejects the charged rays. There was no secret of coronal mass. You were taking a dip in golden plumes of nirvana. No suffering, no remorse. A slice of moon will heal. In your path lies the gray earth. Who will incite the ocean now ? A transient truce will not give you the leaping death of valley. The clouds will take there own revenge. Satish Verma