Mizpah

on

The midnight of the day hanging on my head

The curtains of southern windows dancing to blade

I look at the ceiling–the border of my soul to roam

I put my hand on my bosom and straight my legs

The drenched wind of Monsoon cafune me gently

The electric wind of the age-old fan spread over me

I close my eyes throwing spectacles at one side…thud…

And listen with effort the muffle beats of my heart…lub..dub…lub…

I feel lost…I feel serene…I feel cold

Is this what everyone talk of…the end…

But, I know I’ll not go before that autumn comes

I know I’ll leave after seeing the dream–

Hand in hand walking down a street…promises redeem…

–xx–

9 Comments Add yours

    1. sangbad says:

      My pleasure…

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Khoob Bhalo ache. 🙂 🙂

    Like

  2. Sreeblogs says:

    Darun…👈👈

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Debarati says:

    Lovely read. Loved your blog. Keep writing.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. sangbad says:

      Thank you for stopping and reviewing my poem…keep visiting my blog…

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Very atmospheric and evocative

    Like

    1. sangbad says:

      The words came out in a flow…

      Like

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