Like everyday, night has passed on a whim,
in the obscurity
of dawn,
the
life again slowly lifting the
scattered emotions,
some sharp
pieces
and
almost, invisible some - -
thorny pieces, the
fate of dreams,
always
exists
on the tip of wet leaf, the
first ray of sun erases
all the nocturnal
stories but
remains
some
fragrance undefined just
inside of hydrous
feeling - -
* *
- SHANTANU SANYAL
http://sanyalsworld.blogspot.in/
emerging peace
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