Poetry Collection by Prabhat Verma
My poetry is not an opinion expressed. It is a song which either arises from a bleeding wound, or from a smiling face.


My innocence barked on the figures,
Who left their morality & honesty astray,
But the howling kept getting lower & lower,
Until one day, when it was no more, Transformation, and a new person was born,
On exactly the same moments I died.

Now I hear my ignorance bark on figures,
Who show traces of morality and honesty inside,
The howling is deafening and its growing louder, Until the day it takes a fall,
Transformation, and my old say shall be reborn,
On exactly the same moments I die.


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