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Cascades
Folder:
Satish Verma Prowling in moonlight,
time beats. Alone I was looted
like the moon. O ballad I will not believe you.
Everything was alright
except something was imperfect. Nobody
was taking a shower under the Niagara.
Of tears. The cascades
of prayers go into oblivion. These
killing days haunt me in dark, when I wake.
