The Biologhical Phantom Poem by Subrata Ray

Some salt made puppets,
Some straw-carrier- cargo,
Melted and sank,
And withered with feathers.

Brother, don't bother,
You have the fake wallet,
And from wordless Void,
You have a rootless hang,
Too insignificant to penetrate,
The tenor of causality.

Your science, -the perversion of Nature,
Your arts, -the museum of imagination,
Your commerce, -the sail of spoiled ship,
Accumulate heaves of garbage.

A biological phantom on Maya's whim,
You are born to emancipate,
Save a victim of attachments' ruins.