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Satsih Verma
Poems
Apr 2024
The Candle in Storm
Words were white, but
in the end days replies were black.
The retreat translates to old age.
You ask the death to
stay at bay. When you were born, there
was a loud sound. Dying will be voiceless.
What is the philosophy
of giving away one by one your bones
and flesh. Only soul will slip away unknown.
#life
Written by
Satsih Verma
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