Gliding on the clover
you invoke the sky.
A tiger moth lands on the―
sweet viola to seek liberation.
You die to find a rival―
to cheat the moon.
Everynight a silver bleeds
to write your name on the stone.
What you dream, does not
become your neighbour.
You give a big hearty
laugh to frighten yourself.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: January 4th, 2018 20:18
- Category: Nature
- Views: 8
Offline)
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