Quicksand - Poem by Satish Verma
After the death, mediocre paperweights rule
on the pages of life.
The leading light will wander in ruins for
Hot winds spray the sparking dust on
desert picks up the artist trapped in confusion
I pray for the rains.
Give me a chance. I want to replay the
Can you spread a blanket on the wounds
that were not mine?
Nobody gives a call. They were overshooting
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