Lost Self
M
M. Asim Nehal
0
Altın Yaprak
Umpteen times he saw his face
Spotless, clean and clear
Now when he stands before the mirror
To his surprise! Here are so many scratches
He is unable to count and recall
How and when it happened?
Was it when he cleaned the mirror?
Or when he washed his face
Now time stands between them
Mocking and joking,
When everything is lost in the dusky sky.
Bu şiiri puanla
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