From the dusky smokefall to condescend dayspring,
Her thoughts flee in his sky borrowing an invisible wing.
He was the fabulator of the thoughts she had at night,
The hero of the scenarios that continued even in daylight.
Every thought of him made butterflies tickle in her belly,
Overshadowing the uncertainties that she had yet to tally.
But,
Their life was a book, he the mage,
'End' was scribbled at the bottom of the very first page.
-KASHISH MENDIRATTA
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"IMPRINTS"
PoetryEvery word I write is felt.. These poems are the beats generated from my heart❤❤ Every poem has an emotion behind it Which is absolutely personal And not meant to hurt or Exploit someone's Sentiments.. No parts of this publication may be produced...
