Pain and pain...
Blame and blame...
You never want to be a fain?
you capture my veins
blocking the sense
but do stay in core...
then- why always you blame?
don't make it vain,
So much pains
I've gathered in my heart;
oh..what kind of strain! !
pulling my veins,
You does exist-
I can't retreat,
and, of course, bear our fame.
Oh what a virulent pain! !
You made me cry,
yes, I do try,
I do shed to refresh
my heart with that absolute experience.
Just pain and pain....
I need, I need
do exist with that strain,
but don't blame.
Is It a game? ?
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Comments about this poem (Pain by BIBHAKAR DUTTA )
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