The Ones Left
P Pradip Chattopadhyay
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The news has just come
He’s dead.
In his garden the flowers bloom
Oblivious
He’s no more.
His house breathes sorrow
He would have boarded the train today
and come back tomorrow!
Come back he will now
Whitened in frozen breath
Silently receiving
Untimely wreath!
She and their son
Brutally torn
Will enter not a house but hell
Without him but with his smell
Each object still warm
With his touch of care
And their wails
will rend the night air!
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş