He was very sick of reflections.
Empty thoughts. Between himself and world.
To perform miracle without achievement.
Wanted to retrieve the happiness
from mortally wounded life.
On the velvety grass, a childhood
was prancing. Will the wisdom slip
back into time where it started
without a message? Burden of knowing
too much was very heart rending.
He thought it was useless wading
deep in yellow sands at midnight;
the cascading light of moon will not
tolerate the intrusion. Must sit
in dark to get a complete picture.
Effect was becoming the reason for
peace, a leap upward. The oblique
answer to the god of silence. Uncurled
splendor of mute humanity. Shadows
were more important than reality.
SATISH VERMA
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