have breathed last, or snipped
of shore has no more
interest, that's
happened
often,
very few fortunate moments make - -
the subtle designs on the sand,
I do not know, where's the
lost tidal emotion,
which stirred
the inner,
a face that searched the meaning of
life, on the crucifer, remained
some nail stains, drops of
blood has washed
away by the
evening
rain, again soul waits to see the fake
sympathy of midnight glare, life
has to compromise again
again, the world of
survival never
ends - -
* *
- SHANTANU SANYAL
http://sanyalsworld.blogspot.com/
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