Not a doomsday
O hardened life, I cannot
read you like a Rosetta stone.
You walk under
Jacarandas to become purplish
blue without moony touch.
The scented air
brings meltdown, I rise
the candle to count the tears.
A trembling prayer
dries on your lips. A university
of love burns in eyes.
An orange color
abducts the clouds for a forced
marriage with sun.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: June 9th, 2024 19:50
- Category: Nature
- Views: 2
Offline)
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