My poem done. The
blood night comes gingerly
I will stay awake―
to die every inch
in your purple dreams. O love
why it was scary?
Not my doing. This
utopia in fake play
chasing my verses.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: January 3rd, 2021 22:42
- Category: Nature
- Views: 3
Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.