Holed up
in my book
I find peace.
Riding moon, you don't
reach the other world.
Voiceless in
grief the words don't land
on paper.
The salamander
slips back in black hole
to taste old blood.
The holy place
ignites.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: October 25th, 2024 21:09
- Category: Nature
- Views: 9
Offline)
Comments1
Excellent
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