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ritwika raha Poems
As clean, as beautiful The mirror, I saw The crafted grandeur Beauty gorged of flaw.
In hollow hours, In pristine white, Mourning, she sat, In her lonely fight,
The torn Skin
The skin was pale The eyes in rest The resting breath Amidst million breaths
The wound was raw, The gore was red The wind was cold, From the north it fled
Tears Without A Reason
The narrow strings of the shallow tears, Runnel down without a fear, Gliding and rolling, Tainted with repentance
The Water Princess
The retiring sky in its golden attire Merged with the vast sapphire, The faded lines of the blurred horizon Burnt in a distant saffron pyre
No chirping bird, No blooming rose, Blew the captive wind And smoke arose
Deep behind the curtain thick Lies a darkened room Dwells an innocuous silence there, In that speechless womb
I had a vision, Long back torn Which I still gaze at And wish to be worn.
The ‘valor' was rich as the bygone years, That slept with him in his silent graves The sulking verses below the reposing Earth Unvoiced death in soundless rave
The flames were blunt, The rage was dry The winter hot And the summer was sly....
In an unknown Clime, In untrodden miles I walk the lengths with a broken smile I try to watch
The Perfume! ! !
The nude perfume that I wore Was just my own The Florets and the leaves All did mourn
Farewell! ! !
The time has come for the ties to break, Our eyes shall weep and our hearts shall ache, The time has come for the friends to depart, To move into the world, for lessons to impart,
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
As clean, as beautiful
The mirror, I saw
The crafted grandeur
Beauty gorged of flaw.
I tried to chase,
The world so bright
But each time I leapt
They showed me fright
I tried to see,
The vial of life
But the eyes grew weary
And just saw strife
I tried to clasp,
The wind and sail
But the galloping waves
And the tearing gale…
I tried to mount,
My thoughts on steed
But every thought
Was struck and it did bleed! !
I tried to tread,
With the crowd rampant
I was clenched, and I gasped
In the crowd ...