To revisit my
lost home, I am here to
script a song for you.
To make or not to
make a living-will for me,
as flames are dying.
Wrinkles and veins
unwrap the secret of quake
in twilight of age.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: December 6th, 2021 19:26
- Category: Nature
- Views: 16
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
Offline)
Comments1
you, at your subtle poetic best
poetry to meditate over
than merely read,
thank you, Guru
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