To Her Departing Will Poem by Deb Panda

The sun skips over the cloud,
In breaks, in folds, in a fountain of hope,
To red dragons, and years will turn –
Like black outs in seismic waves stop.
Dreams not just moments lend by –
Absurd, vivid fancies; stuck by –
Fervent eyes, that cast down –
To resist, to face the turn of virtues.
Of Fame belongs to some unseen land –
Ventured by the braves,
Praised by the martyrs,
To weal; will be her final lay,
Won’t to unkempt look of years,
To years, they will not turn frail,
To gleams of my eyes, thus of will –
Never lengthen to death of an era,
That held nothing –
To her departing Will.