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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