When the Inside Dies-Cl
A wayside plant nobody cared,
bloomed a forlorn flower in spring.
In glint of petals your face flared,
like motif on butterfly wing.
At the edge of instinct luring,
lancet of desire I’d unbared,
plucked the flower on joyful swing,
it saw my inside die unspared.
January 27, 2020
Syllable count : 8 each line
Checked on howmanysyllables.com
Contest : Oh-No A Twisted Char-Lay
Sponsor : Charles Messina
Copyright © Subimal Sinha-Roy | Year Posted 2020
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