Poetry – Avijeet Bhadra

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    Nocturnal Nights

    A night comes every morrow
    As destined to be.
    Bounded a heart, the throbs follow
    synched with a mind pondering
    the happenings of morrow.
    The chirping starts as it’s destined to be,
    the melody courses to a soul awaiting to be
    struck by the woes of the morrow impending.
    Though, a soul adores them nocturnally;
    To foretell the morrow with chivalry.

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