There it was a deadly silence, grasping all around!
The insects rejoiced, slowly crawling, causing yet no sound.
Pitch darkness prevailed then, all across the land!
And there walked a human figure, a lit-up lamp in his hand.
His face was shady, invisible, his eyes carried a glow,
A blurred vision of stealthy steps that was, in the show.
His other palm gripped a sword, with slowly dripping blood!
A shivering story was in the making, as he fell down in the mud!
The burning lamp was lying beside, thus lighting up his face,
It was dawn and the sun came on, wiping out the grimace.
And shining bright under the light he took his last breath,
There he was, my own conscience, dying a painful death!
Copyright © 2012 Indranil Bhaduri
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Death by Indranil Bhaduri )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley