Ruins Amidst The Green, -To My Loving Sister Daisy Careon Poem by Subrata Ray

Standing on the boarder of apparent and Vast Unconscious,
My vagabond takes an attempt to penetrate the shadowy book,
Dismay sky, azure forest, a ruined-burg, -and tears-oozing look.
A cultivated abstract, -with erected heart, built the castle of hope,
Left no stone unturned, no favor unlocked, to fulfill her love’s scope.

Blindness perhaps it was, but love we know is ever blind,
For fair-weather it is never, and is always against the wind.
Faith and honesty have ever costed “Thirty pieces of silver coin”
Fortune’s greed, the fool breeds, though he a love-loran –swine.

The invisible ruins,
Amidst the green,
Pities the repair of the irony,
Who? Love-! It is stony.