THE MISTY PERCEPTION 

not a sound anywhere; nor I get my 

news; a trance, or descending

the opiate, what kind of 

magical shadow 

all around,

spread 

over valleys, such as the way of the

glass membrane, a vibration 

floating in the winds, to 

touch the inner

graph,

how does it stand offishness, deep 

solitude in the crowd, ineffective 

your love, invisible attraction

lure away somewhere 

in the mist, what 

kind of

stoicism, not freedom, nor an 

indulgence; continuing 

the diversion, amid

the relapse 

and the 

emergence, an unknown hand, 

every time, such as 

marching toward

the darkness 

to take 

over all abstraction, that's reason -

conscience never dies - - 

- SHANTANU SANYAL 

artist Misty Morning by Bonnie Hamlin
http://sanyalsworld.blogspot.in/