The Last Storm Poem by Kinshuk Banik

All storms reach their ends,
And fates have became my friends;
But the last storm it is.
Knocking off the trees
It does come along
Chanting its old, fateful song.
In this last day
The last storm does play
With innumerable lives―none can hide!
All drown in the gusty and windy tide.
The playful end is near;
Here and there is dread to hear.
Fate with harmony sings
And death lays its icy hand on Kings.
Bloodless the lie like untrodden snow,
The North Wind does blow
Above the fallen stars,
Who have been martyred in the life wars.
All gets devastated like dry spouts before stream,
A developed land ago became a ruined realm.
Only is left the lone beast,
Roaming all around and enjoying its feast.
The fateful last storm does roam along
Chanting its old, fateful song.