Pure Murder Poem by Satish Verma
Pure Murder
The spill of sheen
after deep throat explosion.
Not as special
as the day appeared.
Afraid of complete annihilation?
Was it possible?
Untenable?
Living in a cavern full of bats?
A key slept in a lock
unmoving the golden doors.
Beyond the control,
lies disaster.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
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4/25/2024 5:32:27 PM # 1.0.0.1119
