Musing 143 Poem by shuvo chakraborty

Our pilgrimage to the temple divine
At wee hours after the complete sun down
In company of nocturnal pinings fastened heavily
Upon the faiths loosened for tail wagging.
Spirits of darkness sprang out from the branches
Strengthening the prayers for holy privileges
To be borne on the foreheads after the mourning bath.
Stapled sins are not carried away in the splurge
Of frail oblation in river incompetent for salvation
By withstanding the umbrages of evils infant.