Poetry

Nostalgic Poison

What will tommorow hold,

knowledge of pain is learned.

sick yesterday tales are told ,

few olive crowns earned.

I see me as wrath ,

contoured in the seen,

lost in the fight with earth .

Into yearn I lean.

calling this wrath, till tomorrow ends.

let it rain,

         put out fire,

                                                           make amends

 

                                                                                  ~ Tarak Bhattacharjee

                                                                           India

5 Comments

  1. Saswati Banerjee

    Thought provoking poetry🙂

  2. Jaya Bhattacharjee

    Fantastic poetry

  3. Smoothly Amazing

  4. Soumi Sarkar

    Very well written Tarak.

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