Mortal Blues

Folder: 
Satish Verma

That satanic streak 
of tireless undressing 
of a hapless monarch. 

Wings were gone. Cannot fly 
across the tree 
of hypocricy. 

A footmat for the suicidal jump 
from the elegant hierarchy 
to grainy lies. 

Why are you turning ungreen? 
You will dig up the temple 
without god?

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