You can't trust time,
It is a slave of fate.
Snatching is its old game,
Judiciously conserving moments
isn't helping anymore,
As every second is ticking
Rags full of stress has been burdening
us with tomorrow.
Monotonous is what masses call it,
Exciting is a myth for more than half.
It bids success farewell if we don't
honour its worth.
Assisting the fate,
It manipulated destiny of many,
Leaving with no penny.
YOU ARE READING
The burning rose (Completed)
PoetryA book of poems Not related to rose. Except one of them. 18 poems which you may or may not relate to. I hope you like it. Pls show some love if you did like them, it would make my day.✌ #thecosmicawards2018