Moon like a white panther,
waits in the dark when I was condemned
to live more in the crowd of predators.
Brutal smell of crocus
makes me insane. The fireflies are
unleashed to pick the sparks of love.
You re-imagine a dream.
who was spoiling the sun to burn
the forest where fawns live without violence?
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: May 10th, 2021 20:03
- Category: Nature
- Views: 28
Offline)
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