Miniature Of Mind Poem by Pijush Biswas

Much like him, O Suman, you know
Unto the vex'd dream; but I fear
The dusty path must not entangle, though
And woozily come no a flower

Twelve a half of day hours rest
Than much the holy players' play
O, what an embassy who fought for waist
Till the night comes before next day

An e'nt if is matter in life,
A mistake if is matter loud,
No a bar of Love will stand in belief
Where lasts no song, but only cloud.






COPYRIGHT@ RESERVED BY PIJUSH BISWAS

01/15/2017