Who Steeds The Horse! Poem by Subrata Ray

The Dungeon fumes time,
Wreaths of broken desires,
Rise with complex heads,
And return again to the same bed.

The icy sun melts and revive,
Bees hoard and suck honey from the hive,
The spider from swab builds cobweb,
The reason shooter make butt the knave.

The bioscope gears the merry-go-round,
Hide and seek continues with the hounds,
Silence returns after the dram major's sounds.

Why and how the world bodies forth!
With apparent senses and troubling cause,
Who the duce knows, -steeds the horse!