I collect the unknown fears, 
better than the known. 
Winds start a virgin dance 
of reeds. 
There was a music for a monk 
I prepare myself 
to run into the storm. 
You are not, what you pretend to be 
and I also don’t need to see the ugly inside. 
Enigma for apology, 
to erode the authority- 
for which you carry a mask, to beat the truth. 
Where and when we will meet 
for interpretations? Sleep may bring 
a quick death of a nova 
unravel the secret 
of a flying prayer. 
Satish Verma
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	satishverma (
 Offline) - Published: December 15th, 2012 22:39
 - Category: Unclassified
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