Details |
Ayan Kedir Poem
If I soon leave,I'll lay in fields of grass,
Surrendering to the soil's gentle grasp.
Its roots,my vein,will weave below,
The story of us where love will grow.
Although im gone,my love remains,
In every leaf,in every rain.
Though every season,my warmth lingers,
A gentle touch,you'll feel with your fingers.
Copyright © ayan kedir | Year Posted 2025
|