satishverma
Said In Part
Category: /General/
(329 views)
0
Impacted in lunar surface,
the centuries of dust and
dust of centuries, were willing to surrender
orange love,
hovering over your trajectory.
The second death will not
come, flesh consumed.
I will draw your profile
in white desert of psalms.
Life was a big funeral.
Footprints in snow were vanishing.
I have come afar from the
home. I don't want to leave
the traces of my missteps.
Time was very venomous.
The roses will not die, never.
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