O' Creator Poem by ANSHUMAN ACHARYA

My benevolent, My benefactor,
O mercy Divine.
What purpose cometh thy Creation hither,
What cosmic plan, or Great Escape of thine.

Beast of beasts, a subterfuge soul,
harrowed highbrow adorn thy masterpiece
One who beseeches wisdom, question calamity, fight ills.

Acquit mine audacity, O'Creator,
for I unearth in thy thoughtful make, lines of fault.

Where the celestial bristles perhaps came languid loose
Snap! Right at the revered cranium’s sullied feet.


Where the temple of temptations,
beacons the arrival of desires, loss and lament.

Is this thy blunder, thy sinister prophecy,
An intangible twist or an artist’s flight of lunatic intent?



For lay simmering but still, puddled in poise
In tranquil despair, a quicksand swamp
Of a tribunal of tears, a silenced noise
muffled beneath modish preach and pomp.


Lashing in frightening frothy turmoil,
against high walls of confound chivalry.
rancid thorns of misery jutting out of the dampened crevices.


They threaten thy incredible canvas,
When intellect bemoans bestial,
When questions besought brethren blood
To fight when is thy illness.


Through ages, evolution, the portrait wilters, dangling by time,
What cosmic plan….or Great Escape of thine? ? ?