To Sangita

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
death of a beautiful woman

Submitted: August 15, 2012

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Submitted: August 15, 2012




Her voice earned every applause,

Had magic in her eye,

Fever was the very cause

That caused her to die.


In the darkness demons creep

When no one is around,

Fears which ne'er sleep

Roam the burial ground.


During the midnight hour

I stand b'fore her tomb,

With her beloved flower 

And purse and her comb.


For she was very fond

Of charm and her looks,

We sat beside a pond

And used to read books.


While mourning and sobbing

In this horrid place,

Surely her thought is robbing 

The smile of my face.

© Copyright 2018 Saayan Roy. All rights reserved.