Author Information
Warbirds
Folder:
Satish Verma O Zero man! you come
with a continuous denial,
of thirst of war,
a habit, predation.
When would you cross the blood lines?
The night blooms.
Sucking stars, moon
and chaste boundaries.
Nothing moves in the
stillness of voice, words.
A green light floats.
When there will be peace?
en face, I was ready to
fold the words, the sky.
