It was the season of mist ,

نور وجدان

نور وجدان

لائبریرین
It was the season of mist ,
The tree spreading its writs,
To shade grass land with in fist,
Dew drops catch it in a kiss.

Land revolved around itself
Ecstatic whirled leaves falling
Touch land as one`s own self
Who heard snearing of dwelf ?

She was running like tigress,
Over land leaving footprints,
Heart of land throbbed in distress,
Who is ridiculing with digress ?

The dwelf is in Antarctic region
Snow lingering from gelid petals
Touching skin like a cotton
Ecstasy assumed like a fashion
It was robustic flow of passion

Rusted ! Rusted ! Rusted !
Who is calling me rusted?
I am already disgusted
Catching fire and frustrated
Snow has been Rusted .
​
 
جواب دینے کے لیے داخل ہوں یا شمولیت اختیار کریں۔
Top