at that winding turn, the hundreds lamps -
Debra Lohrere's Gallery
have burnt, however the corner of
heart lies down in the dense
darkness, indeed we
never came out
from the
self
made circle, a far watched the emerging
scintillation, transient combustion of
sparklers indicated the age
of happiness, smile
could not also
made its
place,
at the end of city, some depressed face,
still waiting for the lost moonlight,
emotion tonight looks like
a waif, sitting alone
on the railway
tracks !
while the entire world is busy to celebrate
the feasta of lights - -
- SHANTANU SANYAL
http://sanyalsworld.blogspot.com/
