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.
Satish Verma
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.
Satish Verma
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