The Autumn Saga Poem by shyamashri Ray Karmakar

The Autumn saga
Shyamashri Ray Karmakar

The flowers stand in que, like bayonets
They would pierce the seasoned chest of sorrow
Beside the armchair,
The tail of depression quakes twice and stops.
In the morning, grasses wept their full in grief,
mistook my feet as that of the Lord.
They feel unloaded now,
having covered their sorest wounds.
In this festive month
The lord of light has drunk his cup to the leese,
Now he is dozing over our head.
The Shiuli tree is flowering, intoxicating in scent
Softly float the distant hymns, drumbeats,
Noise of chatter lingers.
My lady, how do you feel?
I look, speehcless, at your partly bald head,
Body partially covered in blood-red
Your gaze fixed at the nothingness.