Blind Alleys - Poem by Satish Verma
A nascent cry
demands the signature
I will start the self destruction-
on the land of
The rule of sky was at stake.
Trees were burning
and the birds
want to grasp
the stark reality of notional violence.
In dark hour
I know not words
to lift the eyelids
the cloud, the flowers, the blood!
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You