Sonnet 36: Until Love Binds Lover His Wrath To Grow Poem by Pijush Biswas

Until Love binds lover his wrath to grow
Love does itself be a pyramid too?
That a happy heart is dipped into show,
Much are undone by recycle order
And earlier than lover is cast shoe
And count-down does in counter thus appear?
I mean, twist breaks through resultant manner;
If one does wrong, holy does return 'gain
But much to be obliged 'gain dear
Some, as, being no thankfulness to return,
But be merciful; rather would attain!
Love must live then, nevertheless go fun;
As it's shown as fast as light, so it's dead
For, so an emphasis later looks bleed.




Written By-

[[[Abbie Clare (P.B)
7/7/17
Gazole,
W.B,
India,
(Night) ]]]