The timid eyes have shone,
Amid the chaos they disown.
The simmering moonlight has a vast change;
To keep this night unchanged,
The night’s passion is free of cost.
With some poets poetry lost.
The tinge, the bleach, the shine:
All for the shadow of mine
The glee of joy in her eyes,
Captivating me a million times.
Dragging me of my darkest fear,
That haunts me every hour.
Beauty unseen, passions overruled,
She is the creator of the derailed.
I have loved her a lot many times,
Knowing correctly she can never be mine.
At times, I have not.
But what it matters to the owner of the lost.
She is the lost and unknown for me,
For she is the optimist buried in me.
Her tastes are different, so her words,
Her ideas have capacity to break fjords.
Pessimistic by nature, am I;
Might in this deceiving world, I qualify.
~ Ananya Mondal
Purba Barddhaman, India