My ears befriended the jackals of the streets,
And winsome naive angels made of sweets.
The debris of the broken buildings told much,
These places where no moonlight nor sunlight meets.
Look my dear friend, at the cheek of the night sky,
For eyes delights, by the homeless used as sheets.
Last night she blew the cherry-blossoms at me,
Who flew through the labels of race, tones and creeds.
Mahi, everyone seeks for the beloved,
But who is willing to get off golden-seats?
Dec 21, 2016
Dec 21, 2016 at 4:55 PM UTC
My ears befriended the jackals of the streets,
And winsome naive angels made of sweets.
The debris of the broken buildings told much,
These places where no moonlight nor sunlight meets.
Look my dear friend, at the cheek of the night sky,
For eyes delights, by the homeless used as sheets.
Last night she blew the cherry-blossoms at me,
Who flew through the labels of race, tones and creeds.
Mahi, everyone seeks for the beloved,
But who is willing to get off golden-seats?
