Piyush kanti Bandyopadhyay
Who's looking for you inside
my futile verses
but heartless styles and rhymes?
None can even realize that
either any abstract pain or complexity of words hardly attract me nowadays.
Likewise alergic raindrops
how do you drench my mask of virtuality?
How do you play with my words
through your brutal absence?
They tear apart poetry inside a
Sniff out each and every mutilated organ,
Frustration though can't even guess
you cheated their lusty touch
as life usually does.
Why should I create any bizzare puzzle of words?
Why should I let all know
that every poetry except you died inside?
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