Musing 47 Poem by shuvo chakraborty

Old lyre rending not sonorous more,
Languishing self once perfumed the air gloating
In every corner of room sensible.
One and one whenever the strings pulled
With fingers noble having red hue
Swift moving flaming the heart snooze,
Murmuring lips endorsing self the beauty plentitude.
Symphony spiral inviting for all seasons
Will not strain self for absolute without the fair looks,
Fire celestial dust broken at empty mansion.