Recalcitrance
From a homemade
golden pen you went on
exploring,
the young erotica.
It was a moment of
the funeral, plodding
through the extinct memories
of misadventures.
Time had stood still
on the sea of faces.
The great wall of frozen
dreams brings a chill
in blazing sun of enigma.
A bridge becomes a
derived fossil !
Satish Verma
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