Premature Death Of A Rose Bud Poem by RAJAT GHOSH

How sweet and sonorous to pluck a rose bud
That would bloom consuming fertile sludge,
O Mother, is it your fate to lose him early?
Who is to blame after damage done fully?

The premature bud would have a better story,
Would he not expand his limbs without worry?
He would perhaps dance with wavering mother,
Would he not love drenching in hot summer shower?

O You Writer! Why are You so cruel and unjust?
Aren't the robbers of red rose fearless and fast?
O Writer! Stitch and unstich and prevent your fancy,
Why wouldn't You to blame suffering from lunacy?

Mortified Mother would weep till the day of judgement
Why are You taking away whom You've once sent?