Ajit Kanale

Rookie - 219 Points [Arka] (Bengaluru)

Words Of A Lost Pilgrim

The sun has set o’er the edge of the seas,
The night closes in with a chilly breeze.
even through my warm blanket it flows,
Making me freeze…

Oh! There’s darkness in the sky!
Oh! How that tempest makes the sailors cry!
Ripping apart all embankments it goes
Tossing hovels sky high!

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