No Foreword Poem by Satish Verma

No Foreword

I am torched every
night with cognitive pain. When
I am hurt, I am.

Want to know what
is unhappiness. How one handles
the betrayal of blood and lips.

There is a lot of inferno.
He who opens the door, gets a bullet.
Where the peacocks will give a dance?

Sunday, May 5, 2024
Topic(s) of this poem: Life
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