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by Satish Verma Apr 25, 2019 category : Nature, environment / nature
Talk of politics, and the auction begins. Every rock has a price. The marble will fetch more flesh. The granite breaks below your eyes. I limit the tears. No time left for complaints. I am ready for the good –bye. Will you meet me beyond the space, faraway in void? No words will follow me I am going unwritten. No profile, no editing. A bloom will pop up, from below the fallen tree.