Etc7 Poem by shuvo chakraborty

You told me there are misses
Slips of plenty in lifes device;
Faces taken as living are not clear
Faces candid are not endeared.
You said that dead were living
And living were dead,
Might be someone of us
In the midst of hunched earth,
Might be in second layer or in third
To seek the salvation of both dead and living;
Dry salvation, like springs parch
Leaving nowhere you, me and she.
Whispering cold of year end
May rend bell of clarity
For paving our lea way towards grave
Darkness of salvation, quitus of craving.
Passion unheard, love unseen
Must have quiet visit in here with wintry sun beam.
It is solace, obvious solace for living
And jest for dead who are toiling still to find a safe grave.
You told me dead were living and livings were dead
Yes, you said so in placid jesture.