Dr subhendu kar
Solitude Of Mid-Summer
As I walk into the footprints of known unconcern
Concerned unknown from the legions remembering
Of those golden voices in my solitude of mid-summer
I stuck up for a moment with little tired bloods in hand.
when I browse through the tears of their toil wistful
across the winds of days lost-achieve dispossessed
The nostalgia raucously recoils over their walks
And the folds of beauty of the gets embittered.