The lovesick moon
falls into my lap, for the
earth's last journey.
*
Where the tears drop,
the marigolds would come
out to pay homage.
*
Murmurs were rising
I had buried the cleaver
of the bleeding man.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: July 15th, 2022 19:12
- Category: Nature
- Views: 9
Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.