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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=515759" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Words</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=515759" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Was it sacrilege to reenter the bones of knuckles<br>thinking of your primrose, a backlash of twigs<br>in garden of homeless birds, a high-profile<br>sweep starting a mad rush of blue winds<br>in the confused landscape of life? </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=515759" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">my hills are strewn with bones of eaten, half-cooked<br>lines of defence, the diplomacy not working to mimic<br>peace; dead words grip my truths; must you<br>kill the surgeon who has severed the wrist<br>of a thief.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=515759" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I am falling unbidden on Pole Star, the terror<br>on the wings of flying swans, a child sits<br>on a chair with enormous head shaking involuntarily<br>and the cyclone breaking on the dumb noddings<br>of failing light.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Satish+Verma">Satish Verma</a></strong></div>

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