Epitaph I Poem by Naveed Khalid
Epitaph I
Moths gather around the light and die
one after the other;
but their little wings are dried,
expos'd to the lamp,
like burnt-out shadows these words:
I write them down to his grave,
that to reach for the stars as if
they'd lost their way back home.
(C) Naveed Khalid
Copy Rights (C) 2011.
All Rights Reserved.
Date Created: Tuesday, October 18,2011 1: 27: 07 AM
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/23/2024 6:12:39 AM # 1.0.0.1119
