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Snippets of truth come to you, when you chase the anger and set yourself on fire. An intimate slap of a fall guy rages after the defiance.
You are no longer bleeding gold. A windowless home for the defiled, waits for you at the end of the road. The democracy has drained out all the symbols.
Behind the grain now lies the eye; behind the wood now fire rages. A stretch of pair on ethnic hills. Wings unfold, but light goes out.
Satish Verma
| Submitted Date |
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Monday, June 27, 2011 |
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