Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2021
I take up the spectre
of unsung pains. Half- doubts will
follow the ending day, Make me moon.

A skyless agony will
divide our world. I become my own
mirror to witness the weird happenings.

The circle never makes
a square. We can partition the lips
of animation defining love.
Written by
Satsih Verma
62
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems