16 July, 2012

REVISING

The fleshless hands 
lift the obscene violence of man 
for life after. 

The vacant eyes 
will search for the keys 
to open the sea 

of blood, 
faltering on umbrella of 
imitation rain of democracy. 

Age reaches the wolf’s den 
I am sitting under the clouds. 
Bullets are pouring.

Satish Verma

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