Life I Still Live You... Poem by Dr. Baishali Bhaumik Mitra

That night I died as an invisible worm destroyed a rose
It was the night of my death.
A strange quietness filled every hole
and every gap of the darkness
the walls and windows were yawning
and stretching in boredom
and the roof reflected an anxiety of
an ominous, menacing end.
An end, so grotesque and murderous in itself
I heard a sudden howl of a dog, ugly,
splitting the bizarre silence of the night
and a frantic scurrying and scuttling
of the mouse to escape a hungry jawline
the moon was opaque and pale, divided into pieces
and the stars were some ugly wounds oozing out puss
I bled and died on that night
my soul was killed fragment by fragment
my hopes and dreams sobbing in
an abortive attempt to soar higher
against my nameless mistakes and faceless errors
fell headlong on the ground
like a wounded bird whose wings were hacked.

Then why is it that the dew drops
still kiss the morning fragrance?
Why do I still nurture an unborn in my womb?
Why do I still feel as white and chaste as a lily?
No thorn or threat can stain my existence
the spring still hides its beauty for me and
the buds still blossom and grow.
Now I sleep peacefully tucking the lyrics
of my innocence and experience inside my heart
I stand higher and confront the brutal eyes
they ask me to weep in woe of death and misery
yet I still sing and dance and be merry
and the world could do me no injury
O Mother earth! do not weep for me any more
I wont escape in your bosom sulking, as before
today I have conquered death,
now, I rise lofty from my grave and aspire.