Poetic Prisms On Sunday By Soumyadeep Chakraborty

In my country… O Lord

In my country O lord… Come what may, the bond between us… will forever stay The tulips , the roses, the greens Will forever bloom, tucking down sprouting out From darkness and gloom.

Here one can simplify the distance Created on ground Can gather at same dias Moving the spokes of 'us' all around. Tucking down, emerging out From darkness even beneath the ground.

The theme of creation every one sow On the ground, in their heart All the way from the sky From the far region, quarter of stars To get blinks to rekindle, again From darkness, to light… Again.

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