STORYMIRROR

Purbita Bhattacharjee

Abstract Tragedy

2  

Purbita Bhattacharjee

Abstract Tragedy

Outsider

Outsider

1 min
170

They sat for another lunch,

The feet under hell was devoured quickly again.

A Sunday of ecstasy they say,

Yet they took her childhood away.

Yet, they left sharing the pain,

Yet they left calling her name again.


The table was a ground of unprivileged battle, another one leaving at the stroke of the clock.

The glasses of depth and linen of embraces were all pretentious again.



ಈ ವಿಷಯವನ್ನು ರೇಟ್ ಮಾಡಿ
ಲಾಗ್ ಇನ್ ಮಾಡಿ

Similar english poem from Abstract