When clouds were
drawing graffiti on sky,
where were you?
Untamed manners
in a profound grief
brings back the black buck.
The buck stops here,
fallen on the golden ax.
Get me the lantern.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: June 1st, 2016 22:21
- Category: Nature
- Views: 10
Offline)
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