Mooneater, I am my poem:
fantasy of words
traveling through fog.
When light sneaks in,
would you like to weep
with me?
Dear death,
I am not ready to
close my chapter.
You are you
but I am not me -
taking a flight in dark.
Disintegrating,
I am collecting the spiderwebs
to catch the moon.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: January 24th, 2016 00:21
- Category: Nature
- Views: 9
Offline)
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