With stoned eyes
I gather the baby clouds
to search for old moon.
Being or not a being,
walking on the white sands
looking for blood spots.
Forgive your bones
which take you to forshaken
god, of bitter truths.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: January 8th, 2021 20:52
- Category: Nature
- Views: 18
Offline)
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