The Night
The night appeared dark
When the moonlight entered the room
Like a lurking thief
To steal some darkness.
The twisting of the branches
With the rustling wind
And their shadows on the wall
Like the ghosts of the past.
The brooding silence
Broken by the water from the tap
Drip, drip, drip...
Counting time of our life.
Poetry by Shamshad Alam
Read 623 times
Written on 2018-07-14 at 20:58
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