Futility - Poem by Sagnik Chakraborty
With words I painted spring
So the cuckoo bird could sing,
Sing she did, but not in glee,
Her notes just yielded pity for me -
My crafted, worded toy
Failed to give me joy.
I pleaded Storm to hear,
This boat of mine to steer,
He took a portion, not the whole,
Of my rudderless, reckless soul -
In two my heart was torn,
In silence, grief was born.
The pearl from oyster shell
That's not to buy or sell,
In frenzied lust I snatched away
And wore as jewel night and day -
It caused my heart to fade,
And wither into shade.
I looked up at the sky
And cried to the heavens high:
Return to me the virgin bliss,
Of innocence green, which I now miss!
Not an answer came;
Futility is my name.
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