With a hushed tone
the shadow of the full moon
falls in the blue lake.
Stampede brings into sight―
another murky tale of fast
disappearing earth.
You must not hear of―
me again, at the pile of
gifts from the red Mars.
Knowing you in end―
to unknow my destiny of
walking on hot coals.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: October 24th, 2019 22:15
- Category: Nature
- Views: 9
Offline)
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