Standing on a ledge―
counting the clouds.
Moon will never betray me.
Was it so easy to―
say goodbye, after thousand
words spent on you?
Your skin flutters like―
a flag. The big name of
stain was still beautiful.
Love had become a
truth, of a martyr. The
slaughter was a bundle of lies.
How will you undo the―
knots, of undying smile?
That was a thrill?
Go get the award of defeat.
I am still working on you.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: June 20th, 2020 19:27
- Category: Nature
- Views: 25
- User favorite of this poem: Laura🌻.
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Comments1
How many more
will have to die?
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