Author Information
My Scars Were Red
Folder:
Satish Verma Give me a moment to live; The love dies casually.
Why were you carrying the corpse of memories?
Ozena? What do you smell? The day
burns, night cries. A robust reprisal appears.
Do not wail Destruction has come.
It was rapid. The world has swallowed my poems.
The jasmines are drying now.
Did your answer turn blue?
Why did you lead me to lotus lake? Was
it the loss of cranium. There was no water.
