Your routes were calling my name. Your passion, your sweat, your shady lanes, your happy children, your slanders, your knowledge, your sins, your addresses, your falls; I see it all in your eyes, a painting of madness.
A story of a city once existed in your heart. I used to be apprehended, my princess. Love was a conception you conceived, and I'm just a passing lover in a crowded city.
YOU ARE READING
Petals (#Wattys2016)
PoetryA bundle of poetry. A pigment of our inner self. The process of our daily life.
