The Tormented Anguish. Poem by Subrata Ray
The Tormented Anguish.
The Tormented Anguish.
My time waits with frustration's night
My casting eyes are but drought for your sight
My lone hut, loses its art, in pitiable plight
And my vacation is sick without your ride.
I am in desert with steps in quicksands,
And wistful heart longs for pole star in murky night,
And your flash after long interval meets not appetite,
Oh Greater Me, mitigate my thirst, by your presence.
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4/24/2024 4:12:28 PM # 1.0.0.1119
