A Star Plunges

Satish Verma

A pristine smoke was pointing 
the where of pawns 
abetting the glacial runaway. 

he was the last man on the stairs 
ready to jump in the lake – 

when night arrives. 
Now this was the tipping point 
to stand erect 

where the tongue was wasting away, 
The death staged a drama 
of a feel up of young buds 

in a virgin garden. 
The key breaks the lock 
and darkness prevails. 

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