Teach Poem by Pijush Biswas

Rough wind doth shake our pleasure
Where the long tormented souls,
Only but a bud of mind
Though late, yet, fit to our roles
Is rising, gradually sure;
So what's an unprecedented!
Men, where too a deeply assure
Must bring there peace and grains to grind
As to the past, some as to lore
Which regranted, not outwitted
By whom, is called, so, a peoples' right -
Old ships ' sails e'er laid to be lost
And new bring out to see world again;
E'er those whose miens repeat, crost,
Or but seize lives only in span's sight -
We're, but so full of bloods, crost on beach,
Too an early chimney ashes must not
Be; laughters, which repeat the past pain
Will be sworn, ringing high bells to deep shot
So only a past warmth's enough to teach.



07/28/2018
Srirampur