Evening. Poem by Subhadip Bhattacharya

I cannot eat because it is evening.
I cannot sleep because it is evening.
And the tender strings that tore apart
Want to be raging more.
I want to run like a fiery storm,
But the strings that touch me down.

Lashes and soft strings and the heart
And chest begs for the night to overcome.
Like when all jobs are done
You don't want to do anything else,
Because all the jobs have been done.
And tears run down the cheeks
Because all the jobs have been done
And there are no more needs.
But one still have to carry on.
And you have broken from yourself
And the beautiful strings have not
Yet let the grip of your heart.
And the strings that have lashed you
To work
Now comforts you with empty touch
That you don't like.