To recall a memory
at sundown will be painful.
Moon doesn't agree.
*
I assemble the words,
to tell the truth of blood―
on your trembling hands.
*
What was invisible,
would be known to unknown.
You remain silent.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: July 21st, 2022 19:30
- Category: Nature
- Views: 18
Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.