Holding your smile
on the other side of moon
in dark.
The infantile pain
brings the bleeding lips
on fire.
I will not ask
the cuckoo to sing
tonight for the fallen god.
The body art
ignites the roses,
wearing the thorns of charity.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: August 11th, 2020 19:56
- Category: Nature
- Views: 8
Offline)
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