Rathish Sharma


Death In Solitude

Here it is, and again I have to go through my death
Returning back from a future, the girl is a woman now
And again I have metamorphosed myself
Into an unexposed solitude

The woman who was a girl the previous night
Beckons me, a dying star, for a moment of warmth
In my death I don’t want to be part of a masked album
Where, like a rose, her lips would be singing a secret music

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