Holding your smile
on the other side of moon
in dark.
The infantile pain
brings the bleeding lips
on fire.
I will not ask
the cuckoo to sing
tonight for the fallen god.
The body art
ignites the roses,
wearing the thorns of charity.
Satish Verma
on the other side of moon
in dark.
The infantile pain
brings the bleeding lips
on fire.
I will not ask
the cuckoo to sing
tonight for the fallen god.
The body art
ignites the roses,
wearing the thorns of charity.
Satish Verma
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