Bazi alis Subrata Ray

Veteran Poet - 1,636 Points (January / Formerly East Pahistan)

The Tempest From The Unconscious. - Poem by Bazi alis Subrata Ray

The links to the senses were boomeranged,
The planted traps on pleasure house licked dismay,
The traditional gay haggard in the weary mirage,
The Nature’s cycle stood –still in autumnal –winter.

All yesterdays’ hope-ridden dreams breathe smokes,
Of kind as foul odor from the heaps of dead-bodies,
Half eaten and stored booties, wasted in a harem,
Rise and whisper, whisper and rise as phantom-locus.

The earth and the stars receded, departed the memories,
The Time -left –un-rotten corpse wished the confession!

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, August 29, 2013

Poem Edited: Friday, August 30, 2013


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