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shveta sahal


Salutation


Musings stir the soul with empyrean melody
Every time the Winds whistle in the woods,
Delectable ripples immerse the apostate heart
Every time the Moon gleams in the vaulted sky,
Bereaved sensations tumult the forsaken soul
Every time the Ship relinquishes the safe harbor,
Sanguine Hope dawns the unassailable spirit
Every time Divine is envisaged in the temple.

Submitted: Wednesday, May 01, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, May 01, 2013

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