30 June, 2010

INTELLECT

The hurt begins to move 
and meets in a funeral procession. 

For aging fireworks this was the last chance, 
but lake had dried up. 

There was no fall tonight of the moon 
All the stars had gone for a memorial service. 

The candle light vigil begins with a sole survivor. 
The genotypes will multiply. 

The legend had the last breath 
and then walked away in a big whole. 

I were you, to take the revenge 
from the sobbing me who sent the body 
without a soul.

Satish Verma

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