Letters

I am happy but there is a pain in this gaiety. The mosses and thistle have turned their tint on the threshold. How more eon to be created, these collection of azure are getting shrivel. How more shall I live on the basis of this white papers. Everyday you are slaughtering me not with your aura but your letters.

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Daniel Handschuh

Date: 2/26/2017 7:21:00 AM

I like how you changed the correct conjugations of some of the words. It made for an interesting read.

Randhir Kaur
Date: 2/26/2017 8:10:00 AM

Thank you respected Daniel poet.

Probir Gupta

Date: 2/26/2017 6:21:00 AM

Nice inkling of the letters ... some glimpses would have gladdened further ... well written one ...

Randhir Kaur
Date: 2/26/2017 7:13:00 AM

Thank you dear Sir. For the next time.