Prizefight
Time zone had become acidic.
Wear the chador softly.
Moon is coming out.
Down rushing
stillness croons.
Someone is going to outwit the night.
A night bird weighs the wind.
Why do you stand alone?
Desires will come relentlessly.
The essence of pain.
My bronze heart,
has no prodigious injury.
poem by Satish Verma
Added by Poetry Lover
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