Light In The Dark Forest Poem by Subrata Ray

The psychic tornado is of no importance,
As the Farmer of death harvests life,
Where to stay in vacant desert,
But for love, -we all are waifs.

The budding geographies tempt chemistry,
And the haggard history loiter as corpse,
The discovered island alone, alone stands,
The static-transil -stone gathers moss.

The chaffy crops of bygone past,
Are iced in Egyptian mummy,
The dark forest of the primitive barbarians,
Through reasoned-evolution turns more gloomy.

Hello Christ!
Hello Bhddha,
Hello Sri Ramakrishna the Divines,
Impel and awaken us with nectar wine.