The Morning Song Poem by Pragjyotish Bhuyan Gogoi
The Morning Song
At this hour of midnight,
Desires creep
On the temple of sanity,
The ever locked spirits break
The walls of brevity;
And rise my oppressed powers
From the age old bed of isolation,
Crushing down
On hell, my heaven;
Tonight, lies there no wall
Between the kingdoms of wrong and right,
And no morning,
After this midnight.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
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5/3/2024 7:10:37 PM # 1.0.0.1119
