I will touch the body
of your soul. My conscience pricks.
You dived in my poems.
You were my biggest
mate, to become intimate
with flames of forest.
The house burns alone.
Lake feeds the ruined grass.
Horses wait patiently.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: February 21st, 2022 20:30
- Category: Nature
- Views: 7
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
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