All By Myself

satishverma

Leaving a trail for
the game of kill in watery eyes
for sane surrender.

*

That was a fake turn,
when you slipped from the edge
of enduring pain.

*

Like first raindrops,
I was going to wet your brows
to write my hurt poem.

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: August 21st, 2022 19:27
  • Category: Nature
  • Views: 16


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