Friday, September 29, 2017
Everyday, to a many the cornea is to witness
But never think to store them nor to stash.
One day, all on a sudden, somebody starts to startle
And trespass direct into the retina without hurdle.
Trespasser is not a rolling reel picture
But embossed on the heart for ever and ever.
Times roll on crooning song for little peace
But Alas, sore somewhere as if somebody Pierce.
Blood transparent stain from heart to eyes
Feel morning after mornings the sun won't rise.
Some pictures in life are not merely picture
An item from rolling reel may make you puncture.
The long journey of life ends at last
Stevedoring remembrances that often blast.
(Posted for you only my dear)
Prabhata Kumar Sahoo
Topic(s) of this poem: pain