Apropos 4 Poem by shuvo chakraborty

There have been end of everything, even an hour, minute and second,
There have been end of a year, decade and century and end of the earth,
There have been end of mirth, sorrow and the end of happy or unhappy hour,
End of life, relation and correct or incorrect perception save the emancipation.
Every way towards our journey and an mystic passage throughout the dense forest
Or behind the sky kissing peak and high hills wavy tricks; blossoming flower or ripening fruit.
Every root of foliage and of human kind in utter darkness find the end of new beginning,
Our each loss or gain, pensive moment or the cradle of joy and love received or renounced,
Fishes countless, frogs or mammals and the twiteering endless fliers in sky azure call it a day,
End of lusture of dames and young, falling old and shabby, white hairs overgrown.
None is immortal or musing eternity, what begins or born are not seasoned perpetual,
So there has been fall, fall of gentle leaf, rivulet and glacier so ancient, fall of rocks and high waves,
Fall of speeding deer or tiger, swim suited fishes and sea inhabitants, all fallen to sea bed.
Human child grow young and strength of blood shuttle each soul over the land, air and in water,
Beauty peerless grown upon the exotic vase and smothering many hearts poor with contempt
Collapses on mazine hard floor beneath the palace gold and receives final send off with profuse sorrows.
Unfaithful anatomy of each living being dug its way throughout the bloody way to clog the breath,
What are materials depreciate and wither with air and water, river running being stopped by the Pacific.
If you say all are lost, all transient in veritable hour with haunting specter of hammering destruction,
I say the living surviving or not with the breath, all have stumbling block of end and death,
But beings gone forever with bodily existence have undying souls with eternal existence,
Life specified short or long fly towards the unknown kingdom and very presence is lost forever,
But soul immortal roving forever in the unseen air and being engaged on whispering gossip with
The dead of yesteryears; mortal mind can not gaze their movements so silent
And tear of dears cascading from the inconsolable eyes in grave pain of loss.
Bygone souls from the earth somewhere reborn in different forms and joys return from dead end,
We rejoice with the new born hardly knowing that some departed very of our blood
Seeks the sally of kissing from the proud mother and bliss of heaven from grinning father.