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by Satish Verma Jul 26, 2022 category : Nature, environment / nature
I was not there when omentum was incinerated. No unparing was called for digging your own grave. In eerie silence, I start collecting the shells of forlorn pearls. It would be a miracle if I can read the invisible. I can become a killer when you are not there. The mute girl will not? give her lips. Only eyes. I must lift my poem from there. The Hamlet's dilemma. You will, will not taste the hemlock.