Imploration Poem by Ranadeb Bhattacharya

Oh Good Lord! How wantonly I have frittered away
Your treasured love, showered upon your beloved son;
On wild chases in mazes dark - - Oh, Woe is me
for I have not known – to adore thy light in my beating heart!

Your gift of heavenly beauty, wrapped in morning mist,
your sweet music of reincarnation - thy hallowed creation!
Your verses; cast in the winds of eternity,
The tender warmth infused in every atom
Are all of cosmic tryst born! !
These glories shall forever prosper,
Long after I am gone.

Oh Hope! Pray! Come to my rescue
Here I haplessly loiter in tulip fields,
Sipping from the tempting lips; her vintage brew,
Eyes lulled to the drowsy mirth of slow time.
Oh! Nymphs, afloat on butter cup lilies,
With sweet scent of musk on thy unseeded being
Become deities for our pampered lot of mortals,
In the High temples of inviting Passions and Indolence,
Oh Sweet Rose! The Soft caress of your tender skin
Do tarry a while longer still with it's undying warmth,
Let our song on your passing become....
To these moments of loveliness; a quiet requiem.

Oh! Soaring Angels skating above
On the turfs of heaven in the realm of clouds,
Listen not to the rhymes of this weary heart,
My spirit is bound to the swings and swirls
Of a mind given to the tangle of dull whims,
Pinioned by the fetters of passion,
Here over twain ivory circles I lie
Sheathed in a warm embrace of marigolds,
How often have I wished to die?
To ease this heaviness wrought.
By cold treason to His infallible trust
In me and my promise of lending sense,
To the gift of human birth.

These fetters they press on my bleeding heart,
Impaled on the many colored quilts of vice,
Of scarlet, magenta and ecstatic purple
Of supple violet and sinful crimson,
In deep despair I ceaselessly implore,
To uplift my soul, Oh! Love of Loves
Uplift my Soul, lend a color to me
That is serene and pure.
Free me from this mistaken Paradise,
Before it’s late and I quietly capsize.