Posted by: Ron DuBour | August 26, 2016

innumerable words ~by Ziauddin Bulbul



innumerable words

No one will come yet the words are
searching for heart, its youthful hut.
When it was thick and aesthetic —
mingling with the evening spirit
sinking into whose eyes and visage
discovered itself in the valley of death ?
That quietus doesn’t appear so far
in exchange of innumerable words
on the bed of device called messenger;
And there is no chance remains to receive here
That evening alike winsome face any further.

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