Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Wonder to Wisdom


DEAD FLOWERS ON OUR GRAVE

Sometimes, love just isn't enough.

When windows light up the city sky
But darkness dawns on my eyes,
It's time to draw the curtains
To mourn the need to arise.

For he lies drunk in slumber
Having done his good deed of the day ;
But I must stand, silent and sombre,
Sober mistakes rankling bloody and grey.

We travelled a morning misty but magical
Flowers smiling our way to a home...
Now their corpses rot out of rainbows
Bitter yesterdays serenade their tome.

Doom descends on the departing horizon
As I stare truth into these dead hands :
He crushed the blossom and tore out their scent
While I wept witness to the war in our lands.

------------- GARGI MANDAL

2 comments:

Sreetama said...

khub khub bhalo hoyechhe.

amit said...

A poem to ponder over, mused upon, and cannot help but appreciate... There is a darkness so dense that it is difficult to penetrate and still it pulls. Must I get smothered in its intensity?

LinkWithin

Blog Widget by LinkWithin