Everytime, her eyes stare me.
I think of a million ways,
to escape the touch of time.
I slip pass them somehow,
by looking at her lips shyly.
While she becomes a moment
handcuffed to my existence
and all unbirthed rhymes.
© Shashank Bhardwaj
Everytime, her eyes stare me.
I think of a million ways,
to escape the touch of time.
I slip pass them somehow,
by looking at her lips shyly.
While she becomes a moment
handcuffed to my existence
and all unbirthed rhymes.
© Shashank Bhardwaj
Writings to Heaven 