The pungent smoke.
Someone was burning
the wet rhymes.
*
A wilted rose
on the red lips of dawn,
facing the moon.
*
The malicious
darkness, you drink,
to welcome the sun.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: November 24th, 2015 23:42
- Category: Nature
- Views: 5
Offline)
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