I Was Lonely Poem by Satish Verma

I Was Lonely



Immaculate, when the
copper gods live with half-deads,
the gold freedom brings disaster.

It was enough. I cannot
calculate the runaway wealth. Do you
ever think, where you keep your words?

Between true and false
the stones melt. The dust would not die.
Positively insane, the pain goes private.

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