Satish Verma

The sins of mortals 
have become ordinary. 

You can breathe like 
nekton, in deep ocean of 
idyllic mind. 

Pull out your hubris like 
a tinkling coin and rub it with your― 
body / let it become dirty. 

The wayward emotion and 
illuminati will meet for the 
first time/on the turf. 

Desire wins ultimately. 
You pick up a red rose 
and place it along the jasmines. 

Acceptance comes after the fall.