• Published : 27 Aug, 2015
  • Comments : 2
  • Rating : 5

He made me foul

An avenge I need

It was a prophecy

That life exude.

 

We conferred alas

As a tempest blow

At a grove path

A shroud glow.

 

Wreath he showed

And a veil along.

He asked to guess

To where he belong.

 

As a jesty play

I scornfully say,

It is a lofty concept

Go there and lay.

About the Author

Jasleen Kaur

Member Since: 12 Jul, 2015

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