he died?

I doubt.. 😀


He tumbled to a standstill
On cold winter nights
Rough-hewn stone
Squashed by blue abyss and venom
I fixated upon the masquerade
Abided by a threnody of rancour
Gyrated from fissure


Dear All,
Please rate and review the editing. Thank you so much for your time. 🙏

Published by Smita Ray

Smita Ray is a mother of two lovely kids and hails from the northeastern town of India Gorakhpur. Her perpetual displeasure arising from the hypocrisy in the society underneath the semblance of religion, culture as well as the conditioning for compliance urged her to put down the impressions in her mind. In her spare time, she likes to have some culinary adventures with her kids.

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