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Kaleidoscopic
Folder:
Satish Verma In shadow of the moon, why
an illict bone, indentured
to the spirit of Buddha?
The footsteps were retraced
to find out the angst
of disappearing grass.
The blue eyes must remain
unclosed to print the
image of a pink cloud.
This desperate retraction.
I will not be able―
to write a single poem.
The unholy exit was
damaging the steel of a
proud man, still standing erect.
