The Dark Night Rises

The Dark Night Rises short poem

Photo by ahisgett


As the dark night was rising
The waves were also raising high and high
as if telling me, they won’t let me take a sigh
They raised and raised as if they were in a great haste
and were treating me as a little waste
I was woefully facing them
they appeared to me as a vamp
and as expected at last, their anger just blasts
wrecking me off with a tight slap
and I understood they left me alone to sleep in water’s lap

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