From The Flames

satishverma

Under your eyes 
shadows, my poems curl up. 
When do I call you? 

From wires, tiny drops 
of dew hang perilously. 
Sun was going to kiss. 

First I take you, then 
I will cry for the last time. 
Going to meet the gods.

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: July 16th, 2019 19:27
  • Category: Nature
  • Views: 8
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry and subscribe to My Poetic Side ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors Weekly news



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.