Mad-Beauty Poem by Pranab K Chakraborty

They propagated
I am dead
I felt once
I am not alive

They decided
I am bluffer
betrayal
butcher

I simply kept
myself silent
and now
when I am on the road again
they think
I am the ghost......
...............................

This way a mad began her story
to tell to the tree,
from behind
I only listened the words
and spasm of her passion

Now feel it a poem
for my own to utter
to myself
because
I have no enemy to defend
yet have some ego to be
an egoist as live cruelly alone!

Pranab k c
06/11/2015