Treasure Island

anshuman gautam


SOLITARY FRIDAY EVE..............


As usual june's days, scorching waves
Sometime the thunder air blaze.

The blue sky is going to blind
But the black clouds going kind.

The condensed vapor roaring,
To make the earth's surface souring.

The wind is swinging its chilled scent,
Making my mind to drink up-to its end.

Different moths of same size are whispering,
Around my five direction their day's activities.

The current page is gazing me with sympathy,
The beside one is dancing to please it's neighbor.

My finger running tightly over my pen,
But my thought is going to an end.

There is no one except the moon hidden, by the cloud.
and my feelings peeking out of
my blood and mind.

Submitted: Monday, April 21, 2014

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Topic(s): art

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when i was sitting alone on the roof in the Friday evening April......

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