Strange PicturesA Poem by Satish VermaStrange Pictures
Don't read;
feel the words. They weep in full moon. The hills were moving. Trees wouldn't wear the dresses. I was not ready for autumn. Can you come back after the death of hope? The stalkers stand in queue to harness the dark energy. The frills were beautiful. Face was missing. © 2023 Satish Verma |
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