Did you open it,
the red rose? Was it a sacrilege
to give an erotic response?
Golden door seldom
opens. We want eye contact
with the sun, envious of the moon.
A cut in pitch black
does not bring the light. The moon
always waits for the lover.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: April 17th, 2024 02:44
- Category: Nature
- Views: 1
Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.