YOUR SPACE
Poetry
Not My Philosophy
When words die, I
wake up the pain. There was no
need for any elegy. A timeless scream rises.
We make faces. The
quest for the name begins. How not
to die after becoming wiser than god.
Your slanted smile makes
you real. No wish for any mirror. The
makeup is for the temple.
Deepened thoughts expressed well with an emotional touch, Satish jee.
Padma,
Hyderabad,
Feb 08, 2022
Author
Satish Verma
kantasatish@gmail.com, Ajmer
Feb 06, 2022