Scarring

satishverma

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.

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: November 19th, 2017 22:45
  • Category: Nature
  • Views: 5
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