• arunavhazarika 18w

    Nostalgic Nights

    The night seeps in, quite morose
    The owl's calling that runs high,
    Against the quavering trees
    Plunges the head, reviving the distilled,
    old, experiences
    Congregated against the soul,
    From time to time it breaks free
    With opened chapters and convulsed
    coclusions,
    Hereby; comes the Nostalgic Nights