My sorrow hits the ceiling,
Triggering the reservoir of words,
Piercing my pale skin,
Ink oozing out,
Running thicker than blood.
In this melancholic night,
In this cold storm,
A mortal is dead and
a poet is born...
~Milind Gautam
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Author:
Milind Gautam (
Offline) - Published: May 27th, 2022 15:14
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 8
Offline)
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