T3 || বিশ্ব কবিতা দিবস || সংখ্যায় Kunal Roy


The sky greys in the West,
Ensues the battle,
Reveals the truth,
The warmongers are here,
To transfigure their interest –
A blend of incorrigible optimism!

Breaks the belief,
Peril raises the hood,
Grapples with the misfortune,
Maims the eternity,
Throttles the voice,
Who would awake the conscience?
The human race!

The destruction rocks,
The dance of death,
But –
No cosmic vibration,
Of the Lord’s ‘Damru’.
Plunges into the opacity,
Of ignorance!
A knotty life,
Shatters the bliss of shelter!

Spreading wide,
The wild flames,
Like umbra,
Gobbling up,
The existence!
No voice of justice,
No voice of protest,
No tidings of tranquility!

The sorrow reigns,
An untold anguish,
Not a battle of Kings and Queens,
No board of –
Chess and Checkmate!

Thousands cry out their souls,
The awfully burnt mind,
Tearing apart the vanilla,
The wind, the water, the land!
The warfront –
Burdened with the corpses,
Touching the sky!
Weaves a tale of gory history,
Which injustice would be expunged
For the sake of justice?
But –
A mere scheme,
Reply is difficult,
An hour of today!

No prayer,
No entreat,
An embodiment of power –
Removes the darkness,
Revives the chirping at dawn,
Amid the specks of sun,
Like the thousands of light years,
Peace will prevail,
Deluge –
The spectrum –
Of mental horizon!!

ফেসবুক দিয়ে আপনার মন্তব্য করুন
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