Philosophizing

by Satish Verma   Jan 6, 2022


On the run,
was a bon viveur?
in amber thoughts.

I start unknowing you?
O invisible. A curse
will follow if you make me
a god.

I plead, standing
on the rubble, I will not learn
to live without the muse.

Sometimes you disappear
unshorn, in the rain forest?
of stunning phrases.

I hold,
the existence of a ghost.
Undying for the sake of
forced acceptance.

That was the art of inevitability.

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