Virtue And Vice Poem by Biswajit Mishra

Standing besides the river of virtue……underneath the stem of vice…
Nestling a small bird I am……unsecern of the caprice…


Desires for the ablution in the nectar of the river…
But secluded for a caudle….
Though sits besides the fruit of vice….
Detests of devouring the vine of the assail…


Portrays the picture of its dream…
on the empty canvass of its life…
Sitting in the graveyard of truthfulness…in a foolhardy manner…
Sometime become bullish…sometime bearish…
Intrigued in the path between genith and nadir….


Treated as unwanted but still moves as unconcern…
glots the fire of humility
As if all the sensitivity in the body is frozen…..
Some says it to be its madness and some articulates as its deep passion…