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Satsih Verma Apr 2021
Religion of one word
hides in cul-de- sac of suicide.
A homeless body burns the story.

Pain of immaculate knowledge
calls a quit. Were you loyal? I embrace
a hounded rendezvous of the century.

This was a small poem,
without a celebration of the fall of
the emperor. You stand as a stranger.
Satsih Verma Apr 2021
When words crack, tears
fall. There was an emotional void. You
were breaking yourself.

Renaissance. Did it start
at your door? You step out from yourself,
start throwing your parts to dogs.

Unsung our gods wait
for your arrival near black wall.
You have to write your name.
Satsih Verma Apr 2021
I stand in a row to
reach nowhere. What was the certainty.
Then why was the mausoleum made?

Up near the burning sky
the sun was closing shop. The stings
were still buried in flesh of crucified man.

Poems were becoming heavy.
Difficult to understand the muse of
fallen titan. Do you believe in resurrection?
Satsih Verma Apr 2021
The pink stigma gets
baked. Turns my brain into stone.
You were trapped by black widow,

The red color was king.
It breaks my heart to see the ****
by a bald eagle, but the dive was beautiful.

The death was my friend. Will
keep me waiting to complete the cycle of rebirth
then ask me to see the blue goddess.
Satsih Verma Apr 2021
If only you could have
known. The naked erasement of our
confessional private beliefs.

I was assassinated
several times, for the smart wordings
of pain, and full stops.

Between masculinity and
someone crying along rose petals
you will surrender your pride.
Satsih Verma Apr 2021
Non-existent violence
succeeds. And I was not happy. You wear
a moon in the dark night.

Who were you in chains?
Immersing yourself in the river of funeral ghat.
I will carry the ash of stars.

Hurting no one. Already
I was not alive in the hour of game,
when comets do not leave footprints.
Satsih Verma Apr 2021
Very difficult to go into
the tomb. Full of flowers. Impartially
waiting for the resurrection of truth.

Are you really gone?
I don't see. I don't hear. Something
happened. I would cover the door to bury the pain?

Will you say something?
What was the mystery? Only modicum
will matter? Am I ready for holocaust?
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