The Face That Haunts. Poem by Subrata Ray

The Face That Haunts.



Something grotesque,
Obliquely plastic art,
Wanna, wanna, -ding dang,
Unsung ever, though sung.

Primrose way-sides,
Placidly magnetic brides,
Impels all parasite evading touch.
The quanta -mirror, -horror!

Ah! Windingly layered mind!
You get petrified and vanished,
With the face, that stores your origin!

Saturday, August 11, 2012
Topic(s) of this poem: mirror
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Subrata Ray

Subrata Ray

Formerly East Pahistan
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