The Poet
you are like a
star of the evening
glowing and
fading
alive and dead
at the same time
you are like
used paper cups in
the dustbins;
crumpled and sticky
you fill the
room with smoke
that burns your
lung like a
forest fire; you
die slowly;
a leaf waiting
for the summer heat;
your life runs
across a piece
of paper;
the virgin night
weeps for you as
the cloak goes
on ticking,
I feel sorry for
your way
of living; like
a fly gets caught
in the web of
thoughts.
I Set Them Free
In the early
morning
When the first
ray of the sun
Washes away
remnant of the stars
I come out from
my den
And lay down on
dew drenched grass
I watch the
glowing tops
Of distant hills
where upon clouds
Sit like sages
in penance
Where upon the
snow melts
And flows down
in thin runnels
I watch the
first bird of the dawn
Hop by me
staring like an old lover
flapping its
tiny wings occasionally
My heart beats
with the sound of a drum
As the bird
flits away when I try
To hold it
There is
something good in me
I can't make a
prison of my love
I set free those
who like to make life big
ANIL KUMAR PANDA
No comments :
Post a Comment