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Sun's Inheritance

This was a raw thing. A paranoid template for AK-47 rifles. The homemade bombs were planted on the roadside. A very explosive blend of a fedayeen. You cannot take it anymore this jihad. In everyday life inside comes out in the graveyard. It drizzles, the fake beliefs. A bleak panaroma. Pansexual desire. Black boulders, reddish cheeks, moon falling on so many of stars ! I want a burntout sun. Satish Verma

Copyright © | Year Posted 2009




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things