Milk Thistle Bends Head

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Neutral in silent sounds
of war, to become immortal,
the heart will miss the beats violently.

Your hubris has pulled
down the savage sky. Now the flames.
will come to sing my poems.

Too painful for me
to eat hey. The thirst ignites the
candle to burn at both ends.

Satish Verma PoemsWhere stories live. Discover now