Poetry

Voices

Many moons whispered to her,

Fetters of caress

do cut deep.

Left with nameless waves of emotions

Numb to feel the chord of symphony.

Jolted awake by disjunctures

but the moons sing her to sleep…

Everything is fine

Whispers in her ears.

Underneath shape-shifting sand dunes

The way is hidden

or lost.

One day sound escaped

Shuttering the veiled well of silence,

The whispers stopped.

 

~ Rimlee Das

Jorhat, Assam

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