Cell to cell a trapped apocalypse moves
breaking the taboo, deconstructing
the secret of body in chains
The myth explodes, offends the knowledge.
I know that I do not know myself.
Lacerating, ravishing the soil
the roots come out of air
to find the imprint of fruits.
I concede, I stop at the door of pain.
Hold me, when I tremble with stage fright.
My turn has come to speak the truth.
I have not made up my mind
to consume the light.
Garden takes a nap in the dark.
The boldness will face the dream
in length of time.
Satish Verma
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