The wheels.
I decide to abandon―
the home.
*
The pain of darkness
returns. Wax
drips from a taper.
*
A sickle moon―
stirs,
my religion.
*
Deep anguish,
after the taste of
your own blood.
Satish Verma
I decide to abandon―
the home.
*
The pain of darkness
returns. Wax
drips from a taper.
*
A sickle moon―
stirs,
my religion.
*
Deep anguish,
after the taste of
your own blood.
Satish Verma
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