Painless Green Poem by Satish Verma
Painless Green
The flame eaters will
follow you. You want to bring
back inquisition.
*
Ashes in hand, and
your pride, you climb in dark.
I would meet satans.
*
The fish smells the man.
What was honesty? Dead pan― he
wants to return to sea.
Sunday, June 3, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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12/12/2025 6:14:47 AM # 1.0.0
