Watching the ascension 
of half-moon from the brown hills 
there was a blast in veins. 

A raw hope strokes the clouds. 
Starting a fire in stars, 
making you blind. 

Till the eyelids become heavy 
with guilt, striving. Waking up 
in middle of blue. 

I was trying to reach you, when you 
were not there, 
wounding me in void.

Satish Verma


  • baj-a

    so profoundly sad and beautiful

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