Primeval Poem by Subrata Ray

Night has her summon,
To the departing day,
As the day shelters in Night’s bosom,
Her nature needs,
The prehistoric microcosm.

The darkest cave,
Craves ravings for swelling libido,
The frictional disaster screams the delirium,
The greedy yesterdays wait for the morrow.

The past bursts into lust,
The present hides in a nook,
And the primeval robber,
Tearing the cover,
Sets fire in the book.

An attempt to go there,
Where light would never go,
From time immemorial,
The blind fury prevails,
And all vain sermons we forgo.