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by Satish Verma Sep 1, 2022 category : Nature, environment / nature
Your poetry was a hyphenated struggle to become a blood stained city, where I live to find a Judas kiss. No remorse, no panacea. I don't feel the spark. No belief tarnished in the autistic approach of life. You think the increasing distance will heal the hurts of cuddling under the moon in flames? What the numbers have given to us. Hands have the same fingers and thumbprints were fake. No mass wailing. The wolves can laugh too.