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By Satish Verma | Category :: Poem

An early bloomer:
you jumped on the otherside,
of Milky Way, at night.

Hearing the voices,
from inside,
becoming a Buddha.

The semen, without light―
sprouts, into a mad tree.
Not normal.

Starts walking at acute
angle, randomly,
for a cosmic, rare encounter.

A severed hand
writes the destiny of man
who went wild.

By Satish Verma | Nov 20, 2017 | Category > Poem >Life | Comments | Views 216


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