04 February, 2021

Habit of Dying

Pardon my poems.
Becoming you I get the pain,raising
the blues. I ask who was the son of god?

Were you real? I
am sifting the words to appreciate
suiciding not by flagellation.

The traditions swipe the
dust. Why did I stand in domino?
O death, don't come to kiss me pink.

Satish Verma

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