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The Time
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Satish Verma There was a lapse
before the fall of moon.
I am standing in dark.
A wolf a day was
enough to eat me. The digital
pain seeps in the
sad ceremony.
Someone buries
the hatchet in stars far away,
wearing the black mask.
I steal your poeny.
Your velvety voice for the
sake of wronged yellow.
A candle burns
in the white room, bereft
of any trappings.
Bleak
and dark images all - slc