The Cry Of The Shadow Poem by Subrata Ray

The Cry Of The Shadow



The Cry Of the Shadow.

Alone, alone in the ancient desert,
The step hangs in despair,
The thirsty beak is all weak,
Mirage mocks everywhere.

Water ! water! -laments,
The drought-lapped tongue,
Oasis! oasis! -the cherished bliss,
The haggard bird sang.

The thin shadow with oblique sun,
Wishes to mitigate the crisis,
It prays Above to have a scope,
For a shower and an oasis.

The old Bachelor claims a vacation,
And wills the kiss of crescent Moon,
But hopeless uncertainty sweeps silence,
And kills the love by primordial gloom.

The Time-budded transients fall and vanish,
The young blossoms that flash would soon perish.
The newborn ghosts and witches cast on twilight beds,
Night and day no matter, Shadows for shadows wait.

Wanton Weather weds Dismay and procreates the funs,
The mirage born of light and shade on the rails of Time runs!

Saturday, December 20, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: mystic
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Subrata Ray

Subrata Ray

Formerly East Pahistan
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