Mosaic

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Snippets of truth 
come to you, 
when you chase the anger and set yourself 
on fire. An intimate slap of a fall guy 
rages after the defiance. 

You are no longer bleeding gold. 
A windowless home 
for the defiled, waits for you 
at the end of the road. 
The democracy has drained out all the symbols. 

Behind the grain now lies the eye; 
behind the wood now fire rages. 
A stretch of pair on ethnic hills. 
Wings unfold, 
but light goes out.

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