Sometimes,
you let it go,
the uneven fall of the tempest.
Which body,
would you turn on,
now; after inhaling―
the jessamines? An
overpowering instinct,
takes hold of you―
to death wish. I want
to make you sit
before me and ask―
why have you fallen
in love with a
fireball. A hidden mystery―
unflolds now. We knew
each other’s gift
of summer, hurting without knowing.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: June 26th, 2018 19:44
- Category: Nature
- Views: 10
Offline)
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