My Heart Poem by Prabir Gayen
My Heart
-My heart -
This heart is a desert and dry with
Whetted knife,
When repeated cremation with pain poignant,
Seal it again and again the fire of love.
This heart is a derelict ring with no one,
In and out to take care with the water.
This heart is a citadel with no shade.
The waves of emotion sometimes deep and svelte,
did drench it with fire without least mercy.
Life is death in disguise to hush up the wish,
Not to move with flow downward and wanton,
but to make an upward move to meet the last.
This heart is hard and it's softness is Pilfered.
The tender spectacle of benign belle,
The rising sun and starry face of the night,
The foggy morn with dim gleam from sky above,
Will not buttress it to naivety back.
This heart is a forlorn field to sing silence.
This heart is a derelict ring with no one, In and out to take care with the water.
This heart is a desert and dry with Whetted knife, When repeated cremation with pain poignant, Seal it again and again the fire of love
This heart is a desert and dry with Whetted knife, When repeated cremation with pain poignant, Seal it again and again the fire of love. This heart is a derelict ring with no one
This heart is a desert and dry with Whetted knife, When repeated cremation with pain poignant, Seal it again and again the fire of love
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5/4/2024 6:32:21 AM # 1.0.0.1119
The waves of emotion sometimes deep and svelte, did drench it with fire without least mercy. Life is death in disguise to hush up the wish, Not to move with flow downward and wanton, but to make an upward move to meet the last