Inheriting The Dust Poem by Satish Verma
Inheriting The Dust
You tell me, why did you
hold my hand to climb
the purple hill of flames.
On your lips, I had
planted the kiss, not to burn
the shroud of the goddess.
Why life was so cruel
that whenever I lighted the
candle, hurricane reached.
Tuesday, February 11, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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12/15/2025 9:27:02 PM # 1.0.0
