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One Simple Day
For honour killing
twilight adulates an abstract faith.
Tainted ?
Now that mouth was shut
and butterfly was pinned,
will you grow the marigolds ?
The empty book was not breathing
in a crowd of words.
The bitter meaning had flown away.
The mountain will cry now
in the absence of birds.
Trees were shedding their leaves.
Satish Verma
Copyright ©
Satish Verma
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