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Desperado

They slaughtered the icon in captivity as an act of mercy. To know the secret of madness why people were falling on knees ? Outside a small narrative will give creased excuses. The spilled blood always instigates to drink from the fountain head of sweet revenge. A promise has to be fulfilled. Death has seen the door, it will come again. On this day the maniacs, bipolars and schizophreniacs will celebrate the independence day and show their trophies of dried skulls. Now the time has come. Everybody wants to commit suicide to become a saint. SATISH VERMA

Copyright © | Year Posted 2009




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Date: 3/22/2009 12:45:00 PM
this poem is just plain cool! Satish, got some zip, irony and energy too, much fun! Jim
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Date: 1/28/2009 7:09:00 AM
Sainthood is reserve for those who embrace it, not end it. When you look at the world today, maybe the "troubled" ones are the onnes who are blessed. Another good write. Vince
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Date: 1/23/2009 4:49:00 AM
You are ageniusa my friend. This is so well done. I just love this from start to finish. Great job!
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things