Remembrance Poem by Pijush Biswas

To last half at thy care is a steadfast lore
Bright star, I would be waning least by time
The Glow desired to be mine by full of core
And Moor, - colored in green, overflowed by chime
Lot, veiled yet, -would never come back fear
Nor be pleasant, dressing on old culture's mane
The old remembrance will be boosted with tear
Or, caressingly, icy breeze smite upon window-pane.
Though gleaming, unfair the weather may be
Gliding, where thy secret once was sheen
'Tis spoiled, that in thy love perfectly I could see
Moreover a toil, unjust, could not have been
For a Love, - wanting in some gruesomeness
Might pervade it's lace to our demand
If untold worries of those days could I express
And nearby rivulet, stood by hand in hand.



02/22/2016
COPYRIGHT@ RESERVED BY PIJUSH BISWAS