Forlorn Love

She is in love.
The face glows.
She smiles
for no reason.

She dialogues
with her man.
Confronts, kisses.
Romances in a dream.

Like the clouds
the love drifts
through unknown
pastures. It disappiates.

She turns a shrew Looks
daggers, speaks venom.
A sordid reflection of a
beaten mind.







By meenas17

A lover of classical Carnatic music.
An avid reader, passionate writer, into stocks and investments for livelihood

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