Musing 56 Poem by shuvo chakraborty

Beaten heart sounds no pulse setting
With nerves dejected refusing to elate.
Howling lyre of joys and fests abode
At door outward not sense moving curious
Or open the lids of a mind sensuous in hibernation.
Blood in ebb surging not at the coast liberal
Even in pleasing spring with budding foliage's
As the forest dense with fire intense glowing instead,
Lamenting self recognized not the river enrooted
Through the common veins survived in a body.