As rain subsides for a while in the park at night, the cicada cries,
In ancient times, it sang clearly in early morning summer skies.
Aware of the dangers that fill the world, even insignificant one strives
For love. How do they’re chirping loudly until the dawn arrives?
(23rd, Jul., 2023, Kinsley Lee)
- Author: Kinsley Lee (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: June 19th, 2024 23:05
- Category: Short story
- Views: 3
- User favorite of this poem: Qurrathul Ain.
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