'In the midnight cosmos’ loft, Where only emptiness prevails, Magic lanterns are lit in arrays. She stands languidly by wayside, Smoothening tangled hair tresses, A coy smile graces her pretty face. Wicked youth wander into late night, Lured and skilfully led by her artful tact, On the palm’s summit, they’re positioned, A seven-storied mansion, it seems to them. As they slumber ensnared by her magic touch, She drinks their saline crimson blood slurping. Bones and hair are scattered on the hard rock, On the other side of the Parayan hill.' From the poem "Ode to Pootham"
Read More
Specifications
Book Details
Imprint
Notion Press
Dimensions
Width
5.5 in
Height
0.24 in
Length
8.5 in
Weight
0.19 kg
Be the first to ask about this product
Safe and Secure Payments.Easy returns.100% Authentic products.