Overnight I have turned
grey, stuck on the threshold
of a song
which does not cry
parting the mist
of the eyes.
Why should not,
the humming bird stop
becoming voiceless?
O bystander,
wakeup the moon
night will fall now glittering.
Satish Verma
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: September 21st, 2013 00:26
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 8
Offline)
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