The Hungry Shadows Poem by Subrata Ray

The Hungry Shadows



By the side of the palace of stony –hall,
The moonlit night faced a tickling fall.
The queen Mamataj rose with amorous call,

The night was restless,
The hall was gray,
The king was passionate,
But the night did not stay.

The moon did talk with vampire-rock, ’
The moon did will the phantom hawks.
It came swinging through the air,
It came and came, but never was near.

The dancer fays,
With blinding rays,
Unlocked their body’s tongue,
From the chasm,
The deprived eunuchs flung.

The tempted tragic maidens and gallants,
Flashed rolling from rope less slant,
Some came alive from previous hang,

The hungry stone,
Stopped its moan,
And spread it heart to share,
The touch of the cozy,
The touch of the crazy,
And the touch of the wild dumb and fiery bare.

The king wrapped with attendants,
Made the court benumbed and stunned,
Yellow damsels, quartered in a throng,
Greedily tempted to be wronged.

The flute, violin, lyre came,
With music strung but no frame,
The artists climbed to ecstasy,
In vacant lonely music hazy.

Hand off, tongue –saved sculptors ravings,
Lingered on their art’s unique cravings,

A voice, a voice, a voice cried,
Gross, thin, melodious, tongued –tied
But icy and frayed, in the shadowy light,

You visitors, thou can’t stay with us,
Silent creatures we are, and the palace is as much,
King Sahajahan’s living ghost,
With Mamataj, turns into frost,
We all awake and reappear in the blooming moon,
We enjoy the Time erased cold but wild boon,

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Subrata Ray

Subrata Ray

Formerly East Pahistan
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