A Quiet Smoke - Poem by Ankur Shrivastava
As I sit there
Smoking away my good old days,
Memories both sweet and bitter.
Cremating my own heart,
I see it turning to ashes.
A dimming light
What used to be a vivid spark.
Oh! my imprisoned soul,
Away she goes...free
Oh! let me fly
These are my fairy wings.
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Edgar Allan Poe
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