Walking Wilderness

Folder: 
Satish Verma

It crashed like a chandelier 
my dream. 
Becoming wet, into unhealing existence. 
I was expecting a landfall 
by burst of flames. 

Grieving for a lost generation, 
a meaningless exit from the stage 
of bites and suffering. 
Can you reverse this idea 
of rebirth in the land of nobodies? 

That prison inside will not release 
the doves and I was expanding 
in the vaulted dome of violence 
to discover the wait of a happening 
to arriv

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