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It Matters
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Satish Verma When it drips
drop by drop, a burning candle
becomes a poem.
If you knew it,
time would stand still
to meet your integrity.
Come out some night
in moon, to watch the blue
love of lonely trees. The
melted dark becomes a song
of earth.
Tomorrow
you don't want it―
to come and yesterday to go.
If you can freeze this day
I will never ask for a requiem.
O god, will you
forget my name and
let it be a shrine of
unknown traveler.
