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Collecting The Relics
Folder:
Satish Verma Predicted to fall.
Man battling against his
demonic spirits.
A killer silence
becomes a knife. Slicing your thumb.
You want to invoke
the missing gods, sleeping
under the dams.
No one should bring
me to tears. I disapprove
the color of blood.
My bones are becoming
stronger, without flesh. I walk
without legs on the hills of fog.
Do not throw the
acid on moon. Hands
will do.
You cannot pass through
a ring of fire. Bonding fails.
