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Shovan Sarkar Poem
As the mind is tabula rasa
Runs into deep, deep into sleep-abyss
Enchanted by the wave
Unfasten by the speculum
Grip up a dust from nebula
Meridian air touch the hair
Again to prepare for a slumber
Down to the Caucacious mountain
The arrival of souls up there
To create a new lullaby
Mind is still taking an intercourse
With the unconscious
Travelling upper crest to sable abyss
Tears crawls from the corner of sleepy-eye
For pleasure?
For flatness?
Or blend of two side by side?
Copyright © Shovan Sarkar | Year Posted 2021
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Details |
Shovan Sarkar Poem
A scar in the seasoned wood
Stigma hereby,
Chaotic sound’s running nearly
Which dancing with the peculiar breeze
Plea to the timbre,
Plea to the chaos,
Signs are like tragedy, as they're multiethnic;
Mooniest doors reverberate the breeze
Slowly, softly or gently
They caress with smoothness
Shy appearance or shameless
Beneath the doors,
A black floor’s waiting
He's making a hush sound
Oh! What a regret!
What a feeling of unavoidable negligence!
Observer is only the scared seasoned wood.
Copyright © Shovan Sarkar | Year Posted 2021
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