Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2020 · 321
Untitled
Rimsha Afreen Feb 2020
Birds drop dead at my feet
I don’t know- if to die myself, or to give them life.

Now I know that heaved wings look like
Grey snows melting into each other

Life vaporizes from the summer sky
As a wounded dove trembles in my lap

— The End —