satishverma

Small Pains

Category: /General/
(334 views)
Like
0
I want you to call
me, when my shirt was stainless
and sun was rising.

The monarch lands on
my book to read the verse―
meant for the moon.

The empty mind spins.
Script was totally burnt-out in
my voicelessness.

Favorite Favorite  Comment Comment  Share Share

Close

Copy Link and Share



Report an item by sharing it with support.
© individual authors and creators. Create, Share and Profit at etastic.com.

Add a Comment

Enter your comment and submit

© Copyright etastic and individual authors. All Rights Reserved.

Edit Comment

Edit your comment and submit

© Copyright etastic and individual authors. All Rights Reserved.