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The Blunt Clashes
Folder:
Satish Verma The fractured core,
a broken faith, there was
no life after death.
The colossus was drowned
in white, stunning
the men in black.
You cannot encircle
the sun-spots with
bare dogmas.
The tear's salt is found
scrapped on lips, will not
find a place to sink.
How deep you will go
in the tattoos? The sun
wanted to check in the dementia.
