Side by side with the tall grey wall,
hand in hand with the sliver moon,
weaving dreams into a cocoon,
the orange wallflower stood tall.
Having a ball with the wind’s call,
like a damsel or flame of fire,
burning embers on the night’s pyre.
My heart stops seeing her cradle,
sun’s soul flower near the stable,
night swaddling their unfamous heir.
COPYRIGHT © 2019- 2020 Nima Mohan, thetenthzodiac.wordpress.com, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED