The Last Drag

Embers of the white burning black and dry,
The flakes of the grey falling down amort,
Battered down by inner turmoil, i sigh!
That golden toke – my last resort.

Summer red or the winter blues,
You stand by me, through thick and thin,
Sacrificing your mere self,
We resonate as one, like lost akin.

The flame that flickers is not alone,
Engulfed by it, are most mortal souls,
A hex is cast by this paper wand,
Till the last drag, the death wagon rolls.

Too many hands rise in unison,
To want a share of this solemn bliss,
Frantically trying to cling onto hope,
For that drag to last forever…

Todays best new poem was written by Mayank Chadha.


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