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To The Bronze Sculpture
Folder:
Satish Verma Without narrating
yourself, when and how
will you perform the ritual suicide?
Blindfolded, I
open the destiny of man.
Your thoughts make a hole
in the giant feet.
Who would let me, be dark,
to find the light of truth?
O God, take me to wilderness to embark on my journey back,
or become a tree man.
Let the tree-hugging start again.
Very prudently, I need to color my eyes.
Don't want you to begin crying.
