Drink in deep…the boiling oil, burning the night lamp….
The night will heave a sigh,
The night is done,
The night would untie her feet-
Nurse the wounds dealt by stiff iron shackles,
Curse the sun that had dived into the shimmering pool of oblivion.
Hence, let the night be done.
Drink in deep…the boiling oil burning the night lamp…
For they would pull him up by the collar now,
They would pull him up….the sun.
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1 comment:
The poem reminds me of John donne....shares the same emotion i felt..that of love being disturbed by the rude morning!!
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