Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2017
Why silently burns―
the red moon, in
moaning night?

Why in my
absence, you started
picking the rose buds?

Who had placed
the red strings in your
dampened eyes?

A missed heart
beat, always sounded
as if your name.
Written by
Satsih Verma
80
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems