Come and meet me in chamber of death 
where the tempest comes every night. 

I start disrobing the anger 
to find the eye of the moon. 

Where do I get that ink that 
writes an unwritten poem on water 
of eyes when the ship was 
burning after a rare landing. 

Come and meet me in sleep of an infant. 

It was time to start a dialogue 
with golden death sitting on the 
greed of man. The lips were extracting 
the other honey from frozen moon. 

Come and meet me in merciless sun.

Satish Verma

Poetry In English
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