Not scared by stings
I will carry you in river to―
put you behind sun.
The maple has shed the
red leaves one by one in row,
as prayers for you.
Why would the snow skip
the road, where you stood midway
to stop the whirlwind?
Satish Verma
I will carry you in river to―
put you behind sun.
The maple has shed the
red leaves one by one in row,
as prayers for you.
Why would the snow skip
the road, where you stood midway
to stop the whirlwind?
Satish Verma
No comments:
Post a Comment