Talking to
vanishing lights―
then I panicked.
Historic low.
Ghost will not leave.
I see him everywhere.
The journey
in caves, to reach within
the vultures.
Black and white
will meet one day all―
with empty cups.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: March 7th, 2019 19:44
- Category: Nature
- Views: 22
- Users favorite of this poem: Sunshinefalling
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