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The Fugitive
Folder:
Satish Verma Bending the gravity
you start falling upward.
There was―
no distinction between earth and sky.
Unsaid thoughts without words
blend. A sign language conveying
the ageless twinge
of a faceless spirit.
Against the outrage of morals,
flatness becomes deep. The
quality suffers. Inception
invites the crime.
Strange things happen. Man
becomes a fireball, torching
the domes, shrines and littering
the streets with newborns.
