Time Poem by Prabir Gayen
Time
__ Time __
________________________________________
At the corridor of thy Synagogue,
The Ventricle of thy care and Favour,
Stood I day and night outside amid errants,
The door wast open without Frontage to Pass,
Archiepiscopal air breathes through the mind.
Stood I astounded with no words to broach,
Depravity it was to divest my levity,
The heaven was small and deep a rootless tree,
Dance becomes a slow tedious rhyme of crime,
The moment wast lost in spoiled apprehension,
I stood away from the flow of life vivid.
The prolific ambit, the lap of trice,
Upsurged in me a Rebellious sprite.
Now away from the Coruscating ravine,
My mind wishes to receive the call of thine,
The catacomb of time I am so buried,
Thy All-consuming Fastening will not meet, ,
The interior Decorum of my being.
A vain man on the Plain of stride of life,
A living sepulchre, an acolyte did become
My life losing the shaky drowse of time.
A living sepulchre, an acolyte did become My life losing the shaky drowse of time. .....time is absolute
Now away from the Coruscating ravine, My mind wishes to receive the call of thine, The catacomb of time I am so buried, ...
The door wast open without Frontage to Pass, Archiepiscopal air breathes through the mind.
Stood I astounded with no words to broach, Depravity it was to divest my levity,
A vain man on the Plain of stride of life, A living sepulchre, an acolyte did become My life losing the shaky drowse of time
_ At the corridor of thy Synagogue, The Ventricle of thy care and Favour, Stood I day and night outside amid errants, The door wast open without Frontage to Pass, Archiepiscopal air breathes through the mind.
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8/24/2026 8:52:18 AM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
The interior Decorum of my being. A vain man on the Plain of stride of life, A living sepulchre, an acolyte did become My life losing the shaky drowse of time.