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A Golden Tree | MITALI PANDEY

Amber colored leaves,

On a dried dying tree.

Are craving for a shower,

To breath properly.

The birds no more cherish the tree,

And the branches

No more remember their tweet .

The leaves are book willing

To leave the tree,

The know it won't be alive

Until the next autumn breeze.

The spring may wither

The soul of this tree.

The tree remembering

His every blossom,

May perish in peace,

Under the golden flames of sins

Which were never his.

 
 
 
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