The end of night had left
a bloody trail―
of the fading moon.
Love erupts with
a pang. I love the privacy
of dark niches.
Life begins to write about
the bare pricks. I start
paying my debts of wounds.
A canary leaves me
bleeding whenever I ask
it to burn with me.
In flames go my
dreams when I invite the
sun to sleep with me.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: August 16th, 2019 21:51
- Category: Nature
- Views: 6
Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.