Mel Cum Sale Poem by Satish Verma
Mel Cum Sale
Rating: ★5.0
When my hand strokes
a flame, the white ash will kiss
me. Were you savior of darkness?
Why low morale? Moon
will never say he was supermacic.
Icons were climbing down the trees.
The other side of the
pain was an evening song. Go Greek.
Life's struggles have no ending.
Tuesday, August 2, 2022
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9/22/2024 2:05:26 PM # 1.0.0.1119
