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Trees stay rooted

Sway in gay abandon

Bracing for the storms

Giving what they can
He's very caring about his family,
And not only that, dear readers,
To every poet, he is so fatherly.

He's your most regular reader,
His words are so encouraging,
He is The Caring Corvus here.

He's the guiding light for new poets,
His profile is not available right now,
The Raven on the tree of Hello Poetry.
My HP Poem #1781
©Atul Kaushal
Everyone would
wait for the death. It should be
beautiful. No rider.

An unspoken word
simmers in eyes for last
kiss of golden sun.

You want to move
away from yourself to reach
end of your pain.
Unclench your fist.
Release the fireflies.
It is getting dark.

The moonflowers
are in full bloom, opening
at dusk till noon.

In the morning
I will unlock the moon
to go back its home.
You are beautiful,
still untouched by moon.
I am creating myth.

In small hours, I
release the pain at dusk
to touch you unsaid.

I think, not to think of
you, when nightingale comes
to collect your song.
Do not wade in
tears, in blood-deep wounds.
It was a black gold.

Moon was hauling
the night. There was no ending
of empty words. Silver

would not leap in
sun. I become poor in
the court of charity.
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