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Satish Verma Walked into the sun,
He. With weak flesh.
A storm was raging on burning sands.
In hollow of his knees
gravel was hitting hard.
He moved onwards in trance
Visionary, homeless, life in open
was blessing.
A huge crowd followed him, voiceless..
Hushed silence breaks the dam.
Valley of timbers was ready to receive the blood,
from epicenter, from fields.
