The Wind Poem by Jujutshu Kumar Deb
The Wind
Let me weave the carpet of fury,
With angry sighs and rumbling sobs.
With thoughts firing thunder claps,
And a soul...
Dragging painfully like a wounded snake
Across the endless plains of sorrow,
Struggling, suffering, groaning and moaning
Nobody hears,
The sound of wind drowns all the noise.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Topic(s) of this poem: snake,sorrow
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8/4/2026 2:06:22 PM # rel_20260803T153344Z_4267e77
