I Wanna Let You Go Back, Not Poem by Binayakumar Mohanty

I wanna let you
go back, Not
this time,
I swear.

Gone're the days
you came last time,
the tender breast
of autumn
bleeding shrunk die.

The steady flowing
spring in the rains
facing menopausal fate.

The barren mountain
harboring
the fetus of greenery
hard conceived
in the womb
is blastedly aborted
by the corporate bomb.

Bird at total eclipse
swirling reverse threatened
bump into
pole of uncertainty.

My motif was
never to
let you go back.

The butterfly
at teens
losing the wings
in a blatant blood shed
let you go back.

The lover at the
red corridor
longing for
virgin air
shot dead.


I wanna let you
go back, Not this time.

Gone are the days
you came last time.