Timeless Tides Poem by Soumili Karmakar

Timeless Tides

No matter how many times the golden rays of the everlasting sun has sent his beams
As oracles of fate fluttering in the mindscape of the silence stricken tides.
It had been revered by my memory;
A shade of the past beguiled by fears of my heart
Confined near the glades of the far away moon's garden.

It is the night perhaps, that wonders about the loving memory of a lost father and a son in the good old days,
But what is the forge of being born is still clouded in my days of life,
Perhaps the toil of the divine were never spoken truthfully
Or written precisely in words of the holy books that I've read throughout for wisdom.

The splendor they call for, to make a way out of dismissal and conjuring melancholy
Today mourns in my very heart endlessly in its own sky.
Perhaps, many a times the burdened of the complaints of lack of moisture under the scorching sun
Made the clouds burst where they bridged the gaps created by fears of disapproval
Often tending to be concealed in its own shadows for a long awaited renewal.

Since, then, I've been through the gates of my heart
To make a simple return to the world of my dreams,
But the melancholy of unrecognition says
'My heart has been journeying for a very long time and rest must be assured on the way'.

But, O peace, where was she to be found?
The soul has given way to these unheard poesies of my heart.
The never ending cycle of life of living and of surrendering.
The days have spoken and perhaps I have not
Held by the belief of my silver crescent moon
Recoiling further because of her burdening grief.

I may never know it seems,
Or shall I say the beginning never announced to rise?
But, O peace, you have heard my thoughts in days of the past ends.
Ends; where there were no hope of flowing streams with gleeful eyes.
Ends if I could call it so,
Must they never claim?
Peace, have you been my only confidant in these passing years?
Because it was for you to whom I've been writing for
With never mentioning the grind of the seasons.

There are man-made calamities beseeching over everywhere
And no one is here to comprehend the fact of folly committed.
Perhaps, I too am a victim and a witness with no voice of my own
To write about the grief of loss and in an expectation to be a new gateway of myself.
Oh, Peace! We've been there together in this ever after,
But why do I not see you?
Why do I not get to hear my heart beat again for the one last time?
Why does it feels a lifetime to be in vain?

It would be beautiful if this end was the last of my life
Still I breathe and still I mourn to you
Knowing further there's no end today.
The world of my heart has lost its navigating compass
And today I am left with memories
I wish to erase.

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