Elocution Poem by Samarendranath Mahapatra

It is not possible to tag
relationship with word
If you can collect the flowers
of gloomy season, which I have
blossomed in blood
that is fare.

Nothing to say more
Only a tune is stuck
there in the violin or flute
Life is seeming like
a half sang song
I think it will take an end
on the half way.

I fear my vices
Sometimes they intrude into my dreams
in different unimaginative shapes
and hold pressing my throat
I wake up with a howling
and feel helpless.

Is some one anywhere?
Are you listening my wailing?
I, myself, have turned into a mound
by coming to mount it