My Windowpanes Poem by Soumili Karmakar

Nobody is knocking on my door;
I'm holding myself at the edge of the cracked-up floor,
Winter days have come,
Foggy streets and nights unturned.

Nowadays, I only hear my bossom speaking more;
Trying to listen what they lately forbore,
Dreams are aloud and profound in my single heart-core.

Fairies didn't turn, the blazing fire still burned
The mantelpiece made the room warm,
Pity! Paintings couldn't groan.

Face tilted towards the wavy clouds;
Rains washing the rustic dust
I looked at the snowy peaks
Wishing the time should freeze.

Windows were kept unlocked,
The bolts didn't complain for not being clocked.
Every little season passed by
Recalling beautiful sunsets and heavenly sunrise.

Books being my home
And I'm turning pages of my stories alone.
Racing up and down through the entire day
Coming up with a noble homeland being gay.

My breaths are listening to me,
Requesting to come with a glee
Listen, carefully what they're trying to say, just as the night sinks into the morning bay.

Some didn't attempt to see;
I was not missed by thee,
The last gaze I expected and plead,
The two edges united and flexed
Whether my time was tangled, or I
But my countenance didn't lie.

Were you not here yesterday?
Or were the memories became old after the heartful play?

The ceiling fell off, none settled to find out
Broken houses cannot be build like it were at first to greet
The works of my heart, moulded by my hands, decorated by artisans, who never cared.

You smile like a sunflower so true
Tell me, will it ever bloom?

There will be a day when their nights would be safe;
Without you beside they'll feel helpless.

Peace one seeks, peace one wishes
Thus, I promise to embrace all your bruised segments.