Poetry – Avijeet Bhadra

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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