Scarlet Scar
N
Neela Nath Das
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The sun is down.
Behind the yard,
the leaves of the
drooping plants
are going to
close their eyes!
In the horizon,
the crimson ray
painting a scarlet
scar with its
atrocious stroke,
braces a cloud.
Cruelly, playfully
mocking at my every
action, emotion,
it bursts into laughter.
Setting me on a dish
enjoys my tear.
The scarlet scar,
the dynamic wound
colored with the
blood of every
diseased heart,
tinges day for
its coming night!
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş