Poetry

Memories

A name on every leaf he saved,
He flips the pages, with care in his eyes.
Counts like stars in the dark sky,
Yet never tired of hymning all.
At last he stops to complete unsaid,
But a torn page takes blood to caste
A few drops down pass through the cheeks,
Tasted bitter all the memories in eyes.
Another night of speechless days,
Till she stays in the pages of old leaves.

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