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Bald Sky
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Satish Verma The fall
was imminent
on the moment of complete truth.
I was talking of annihilation
standing on scaffolding of fear.
Walking on burning coals
was a sacred commitment,
a spiritual solidarity,
with lake salt –
to lift the spirit
of sagging trees.
Of freedom of body
in camps of violence.
Without sound, I wanted to see
the creation in nothing.
Anything was happening
under the bald sky.
