Making History

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Pull out the pellets 
from my chest, I had fallen 
in a brutal crackdown. 
A black moon was taking revenge. 

You were staring 
straight in the eyes of death. 
The biker, 
has lost the charisma. 

The apples 
were never so sweet. 
Bursting out of the battle lines 
ready to shoot. 

A black hole 
was calling. To take 
a final jump of art 
into believing?

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