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A Bird Song

by satsih-verma

Come, sit beside me holding my hand. We will look at the moon. Bathed in milk, our life has signed a bond to become history. You will not follow- the stoned eyes. Vision comes in darkness, in stillness of voices. The city sinks in creek. Invaders had snatched the pen from the empty hands, of lost truth. All I need, was to sleep beneath your eyes, to wash the guilt of dreams, about the falling snow on your lips. And you were praying with your invisible body.
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Written by
satsih-verma
Published
Nov 10, 2018
Time
1m
Tags
#life
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