Death Poem by Subrata Ray

Death



Death
Densely condensed night,
The last spark of the wick extinguished,
Imageless, uncoloured, dismayed shadow,
Springs in eternal peace.
Neither separation nor union prevails
The traveller finds his home in the self.
Tranquillity deepens in unconscious
Silence reigns in sleep.

Sunday, October 2, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: death
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Subrata Ray

Subrata Ray

Formerly East Pahistan
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