I Hear You Crying

satishverma

Now we will talk of daintiness
in dark, while the white
snow blushes with―
the glow of a kiss.

The scented moon will
touch the invisible, so
the imprisoned voices
would release.

Do you hear the unheard
song of a wounded bird?
A feeling of going no where
stops.

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: September 14th, 2020 20:24
  • Category: Nature
  • Views: 7
  • Users favorite of this poem: Trenz Pruca
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