In my sanctum,
you walk in― like
my first child, to join
my innerness.
Trying to decipher―
the moral code of angels.
I just wanted an embrace
of a flame to kiss the sparks.
I hear your footsteps,
sometimes near, sometimes far away―
in the valley of burning tears.
This space and, a gouge hold the
secret of melting lips.
Still unborn, a voice in
cul-de-sac, waits for the grievers
to open the darkness―
for a ray of light. It was very
lonely where you had scripted the clouds.
Satish Verma
you walk in― like
my first child, to join
my innerness.
Trying to decipher―
the moral code of angels.
I just wanted an embrace
of a flame to kiss the sparks.
I hear your footsteps,
sometimes near, sometimes far away―
in the valley of burning tears.
This space and, a gouge hold the
secret of melting lips.
Still unborn, a voice in
cul-de-sac, waits for the grievers
to open the darkness―
for a ray of light. It was very
lonely where you had scripted the clouds.
Satish Verma
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