My poem will sleep on―
bewildering at the
honey trap of moon.
A motherless cloud was
reluctant to undo the
kiss on parched lips.
I say, would you be
real thing like the holy earth
ready to surrender?
Satish Verma
bewildering at the
honey trap of moon.
A motherless cloud was
reluctant to undo the
kiss on parched lips.
I say, would you be
real thing like the holy earth
ready to surrender?
Satish Verma
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