The Dying Flame of Love By Fiza Pathan The moon filters its moody white dove rays into the bosom of my soul; The city neon lights have left me cold like the blood dripping from my wrist wound in red blossoms rare. For this love is not a delight but a tragic note upon the flute, You walked away and I forgot how to play the notes. Your memory takes away the logic from my … [Read more...] about #Poetry ‘The Dying Flame of Love’ by Fiza Pathan