The Jubilee Of The Violet Poem by Rupnil Chakraborty

From beloved to devotion,
From faith to mirth,
I contemplate a joy of angels manifold;
Great victorious, but tragically bold.
I shall claim to meet my masculine someday,
Where all the agonies in the sea will lay,
O' I see him walking with me,
Sharing compressions carefree,
He shall enjoy a whole devotion,
Which I cannot ever create, with attraction.
O' his speech is too low,
He devoted me his mantle and bow,
Only to play with me in the garden,
I am truly ne'er stuffed with burden.
We share a divine bond,
Where love, friendship and hate; all are of fond,
Where I speak to him beside the tree,
I could silent the impatient me.
To compare to Thee I cannot say,
If Thou art a floral of the gifted May,
If I could feel ye more than on my wall,
There was only me, who would enthrall.
I could focus on Thee, thou art the only 'he'.
Thou art born of great ecstasy.
I shall see you through my window,
I shall follow you; from shadow to shadow.
Thou shall never escape of love;
Thou shall never hurt; my arrowed dove.