Move Poem by Soumita Sarkar

Lapping the wings of defeat
My only kite of dreams
Fell low failing to sweep
The clouds of dreary sorrow
It survived the strange storm
Some call it fate some acts
Some even say these tears
Shall wash the sins of
My next birth
My present is punctured
My days unpredicted
My nights sleepless
My days all listless
Lust to scale heights
of unfathomed success
Lay low to the ground
Now the light is no more
A curse is this sore
Yet one past narrative
awakes a ray bright
Let come tomorrow
Let see what They decide
Mere wish to rise
Might of work
Bold faces to share
Fire gullet in more
In His hands I wore
a robe white to move