Musing 193 Poem by shuvo chakraborty

Livings can hardly recall the dead at darkness
To set the vases in proper place which they did not
As the both can not perceive the terrace.
Roses dripping red brought at evening
Will continue to emit the odor in dark claundron
And birds of tune will render the tweets continuous
In harmony of life rhythm upon the dreaming palpate,
Souls gatherings under the moon lit garden
Being busy for apportioning the livings and dead
Will justify the premises of death alternates.