Time Table Is As The Time Goes. Poem by Subrata Ray

Time table is as the time goes
The bleak and somber
Atmosphere beguiles.
Wiping faces of the shadows
Masquerades go plundering by.
Hopes hang in wait less waiting

The desert enjoys her loneliness,
The sea’s love runs in youthful waves,
Forest’s wilds violent in rest and respite,
And in strung logic our souls bleed in razor.

Ours is farming of Big-Brothers,
Net-fate spreads, hackers missile,
Selling and purchasing of necessity’s will!