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Basundhara Basu

Abstract

4.8  

Basundhara Basu

Abstract

2 AM Realizations

2 AM Realizations

1 min
397



It's midnight when I feel—

Strange sounds that help

My deepest sorrows to heal.

It's not a midnight dream.


Cold winds carry the cries—

Of worrying wounds to the master

Who listens to all who scream.

It's not a midnight dream.


Darkness outside brings with it—

The warmth of His polite words

Which reaches my instinct.

It's not a midnight dream.


Rush and run; a monotonous life—

Silent screamings become a lifestyle.

As true as seems so false—

Unspoken words reach to know yet unknown Him.


It's well known to all—He is not a midnight dream.


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