Satish Verma

Blunt and bold were 
the wet spots. 
You bleed like me. 

The seizure takes hold 
of millions thoughts. 
My sins are walking with me. 

No annihilation of 
the flesh. I was meeting 
the spirits. 

The face becomes pure 
gold, when you 
start burning the issues. 

The years had survived 
in slumber. 
Death will not come to the hanged man.