The Art Of Crying Poem by Purbesh Mahapatra

In the darkness of time
A mirror shines so bright
In the calm waters of the soul
I stare myself into the foxhole
The counted ones have forgotten
My soaring dreams have fallen
The road has become scarce
The shady trees growing sparse
I have no shoulder to put my head on
From conventional to myself I run

I was very thirsty one time
I asked a beautiful girl some water
She was not on my way
She watched me pray
And smiled and blushed
Under the stars she hushed
She had water for someone
For her rich white swan
I run a lot to die early
And rest little and poorly

I was on knees in bad time
Hid myself behind a snake pit
When no one could see
All wished to forget me
Where on that deserted road
I never slowed my tears never showed
Through ruination hoping salvation
Towards that desolate destination
I have learnt the art of crying
Is to anticipate a dying