Sonnet 34: Unto The War, You Nor I Proceed, Ye Poem by Pijush Biswas

Unto the war, you nor I proceed, ye,
Then how such majesty in war will last?
Unwanted bell, rung, that haveth a see
Gradually, in minds their that call for blood;
Unwritten so far, not too late, yet fast-
Thus it insenses lot, insenses mood
Of thorough works, humans' dick suggested,
Mere a capsule must not recover wound
For the thicky bush's, already, their bed
I don't care, rather I loathe order gave
Such majesty to hold up pity sound
If I can't hold Love, I work Love to weave
My petty rhymes are pretty humans' wear
Who doth less war- chant their appeare.






Written By-

[[[Abbie Clare (P.B)
30/06/2017
Gazole,
W.B,
India,
{Night} ]]]