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Genesis

I don’t want to sit on a patch of fear, tangled in occupation while fighting with the locks. The theater of tumblers. I am here, not there making dents in air on alarmed street. Time was out and time was in against the jolted clocks. I have stopped to get an imprint of amputations. You will not get ruby you will not get gold. Dust will go in dust after the fall of royal debris. Satish Verma

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013




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Book: Shattered Sighs