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by Satish Verma Sep 22, 2018 category : Nature, environment / nature
Give me a lone word. I will write a poem. You enter the final hour of diagnosis. The kill was imminent. Back to back two trysts collide generating a fire. Who was peeling the moon? The stab sets in. In abeyance of the gift. I will give you a scar. Daisies will remain awake at night, for the vigil of a slain pilgrim.