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Ephemeral Wings
Folder:
Satish Verma Night was pregnant
with the moon.
The execution will follow.
An arrow finds
a path, which leads you
in fog of baby steps.
Adoration lived in
the narrow eyes of firefly.
The dark bush sways in
flightless arms.
Embrace of an
angel goes amorously
tense. Negation leaves a
deep wound.
There would be no exit―
of the trembling pain,
live on the flames.
