Musing 126 Poem by shuvo chakraborty

Our pilgrimage towards the divine
In solid confine of noisy cells congestive
Invoking the benediction will unable to percolate
Through our blood for purification cardinal.
Lighting actual has no mighty sparks roaring
To pierce the temperament heavy on head
But having pleasant landing amid the deft silence,
To be garlanded with eyes moist with absolute humility.
Prayers oozing out from the husk voices louder
Are grown blurred and broken apart on earth floor.