Lover Lost His Estimated Trigonimetry Poem by Pranab K Chakraborty

and at last
the sun when getting down
the cool breeze overwhelmed our mutiny
a little sound
she uttered
to make me confused

nothing but a sweet whistle
as if calling again
all the devilish sensations
tried to put a mark deep in the soil
where a cockpit would be imagined
to take off our last flight

and at last
the pinning beauty a tree considered
as a child when keep his mark on its skin
throwing all his arrow just to mark his strict heroism

and here the story ended with a blunt smiling
and the teller simply looked vacant!

Pranab k c
01/05/2016