Author Information
Philosophizing
Folder:
Satish Verma On the run,
was a bon viveur―
in amber thoughts.
I start unknowing you―
O invisible. A curse
will follow if you make me
a god.
I plead, standing
on the rubble, I will not learn
to live without the muse.
Sometimes you disappear
unshorn, in the rain forest―
of stunning phrases.
I hold,
the existence of a ghost.
Undying for the sake of
forced acceptance.
That was the art of inevitability.
