The Aftermath
A canvas embellished with fading hues,A shelter for desolate griefs;
Perhaps a momentary lapse of reason,
That triggered those unfortunate events
The trematode of tarnished love,
Lingers in mind's darkest dungeons;
As the flesh of unfulfilled dreams,
Lies to be devoured upon
The beast of unscrupulous desires,
Silently plan to pounce upon its prey;
As my mind watches meekly,
As I never dare make a stand.
The canvas still glorifies my past Renaissance,
The bright spots of my life,now jaded vertigo;
Circumstances crucify my juvenile charisma
While the cursed canopy caves my soul.
Salvation not desirable,nor I seek love
Peace,I cry,in this stranded cove;
Resurrection unavailable,agony bountiful;
Would destiny smile once more?
Poetry by Nibir Mahanta
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Written on 2007-01-07 at 11:19
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