You often come
Silent of steps
Prowling gloomy nights,
Hooting silent waves
Whirling dark clouds
And, have seen you
Lurking behind
Frozen cold nights
Riding high,
your master’s vein
What if
you possess, sword
of the cutting nights.
I, of born love
Truce thy might
An intriguing poem that exudes an air of mystery ,which leaves the reader anticipating the answer to an enigma .
Profound & Thought provoking….Tapeshwar….:-)