Why silently burns―
the red moon, in
moaning night?
Why in my
absence, you started
picking the rose buds?
Who had placed
the red strings in your
dampened eyes?
A missed heart
beat, always sounded
as if your name.
the red moon, in
moaning night?
Why in my
absence, you started
picking the rose buds?
Who had placed
the red strings in your
dampened eyes?
A missed heart
beat, always sounded
as if your name.
Satish Verma
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