Author Information
Holds Me Green
Folder:
Satish Verma The cult
catches you
like a black hole.
You cannot scale the walls -
slide back
in a crucible.
Like fried insects
crisp and dry.
Witch-hunt starts.
Sky was blue
in eyes,
winds will divide the space.
Do you need a mediator
to read between the lines?
To cross the fence?
Who sucked me dry?
Who leeched me white?
Death holds me green!
