Don’t let me go.
over the cork, a bottle
fights for the fluids
to flow out.
No apology to
feel you. There was
no death in the night.
A sun lies down beside me.
The flesh was disappearing.
A blue star alights,
to make a landmark
for the climbers.
No regrets
for the crunch of dry leaves
when you walk on the
grave of the witch doctor.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: August 7th, 2018 18:53
- Category: Nature
- Views: 31
Offline)
Comments1
A fantastic write.
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