Death Of Light Poem by Satish Verma
Death Of Light
To live for unborn
thoughts. It is painful in your
philosophy. I won't be ungood for mother.
Unreasoned, I will
not sell the whistles under
the shelter to deliver anxieties.
The maiden will not
know, how to say come
again. Ultimately it was the end.
Thursday, October 24, 2024
Topic(s) of this poem: philosophy,life
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8/29/2026 7:37:53 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
