Melting Pot Poem by shuvo chakraborty

Me, a melting pot, under scorching realities
Reducing in awesome pace
Without any natures grace,
Carrying a crying soul to be pitied.
No splendor greets my sadden dreams
No valence encompasses my tiny worth,
Everything is bare to tricky folds
Of eternal contriver, hunter of bliss age old.
Wherever mine frail steps advance
In vain quest of solitude and eternal peace
Taking the soft hands of muse in body
I found the palace old subsided,
Revealing without princess gold
In scattered hopes of human mold.
O! the life disappointing omong dotting illusions,
Not adored, unattended and tore,
Hopping in gloomy passage of expectations,
In iron hands of scornful destiny
Who dethrones all the petals of life
Like a marauding Hoon on gambling jackpot.
But still I not to leave the world less rhymed,
Not to let my feeble tune to be drowned
Within clamouring millions; rather to curve a spot
In life canvas, before being lost in
Lives blind alleys.