To find peace,
you break the coconut,
a ritual to dent
the dark night.
You do not remember
A monkey or a fowl.
The existence was
the same for your
Want to collect the golden
motif; from the
old brick house, sans
a real god, old brick house.
A straight line hangs
from a roof, igniting the
faith. There was no ghost
Satish Verma's Other Poems
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