Blue Grace

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Darkness always weighs heavy. 
And light was weightless. 
You were visible to me. 

I was not sure, which 
god went numerical. 
I was carrying my scars. 

It offers no solace 
if I become you, and 
start hunting the filters. 

Let the moon rise in― 
its imperial robe, in 
praise of setting sun.