The Call Of Death Poem by Prabir Gayen
The Call Of Death
Call of death
In thy flame the source of my life,
Thou art everywhere to seethe the play of witty canvas of life.
From hibiscus to hill thine manifold Coherence, harmonious and Cacophonous doth uphold the lofty thread of life.
The darkness is falling drop by drop on the eyelids as dewdrops fall with wordless Throbbing.
The Bell is knocking the wall of the aged temple of Thanatos for the light to fall and dismantle the shrine.
Thou art beyond the sight and within,
The voiceless call of thy bosom pointing to the end of uneasy, wintry bed.
Death seems the redemption, the escape from the overstated Vanity of life.
Thou art beyond the sight and within, The voiceless call of thy bosom pointing to the end of uneasy, wintry bed. Death seems the redemption, the escape from the overstated Vanity of life. .......
The voiceless call of thy bosom pointing to the end of uneasy, wintry bed. Death seems the redemption, the escape from the overstated Vanity of life. .....
Thou art everywhere to seethe the play of witty canvas of life. Death seems the redemption, the escape from the overstated Vanity of life.... //.... To me, this is the most obvious resolve of those men and women who are living their lives as a burden or a punishment and want to get rid of it through whatever means available to them and death sounds easiest to them.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
5/5/2024 4:21:30 AM # 1.0.0.1119
The Bell is knocking the wall of the aged temple of Thanatos for the light to fall and dismantle the shrine