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Waking

To moon giving a parting kiss of sinless shame I nudged him from the tree. The night had been a terror. I was facing myself in unrelationship of a prayer not to weep for my muse, crushing a poppy on my chest to get the imprint of your face, like the furrowed flame leaping from a deep hurt. Cannot play a game of mockery deciphering the complete truth of a veil for a painless stain. Satish Verma

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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Book: Shattered Sighs