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Greed

Roshan Budhathoki

One day
I landed on a village of bones
And stood on a mound
Made up of those lifeless bones

Life didn’t have even a trace there
It was like nothing but a garden of death and death alone

My soul enquired with me:
“Blow in your breath; they will resurrect.”
I shuddered:
What if I run out of my breath!
I held my breath.

The same day
Yet another skeleton was added to that vale of bones.

[Roshan is a Nepali poet based now in Kathmadu.]

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