Mahtab Bangalee Poet Free verse

I'M the Me, Sin Refugee

I have no Lord! 
I'm in no God! 

Oh, I'm the punishment of the opened pains,
the cursed in the blessed world for the bragging

here in the inn of heart 
the holy wine glass
filled with burning coal; 
I drink it ravishingly as well as ravenously  

I'm going to die 
death kisses me mirthfully
I regain the life of humiliation 

Oh, no mortification of thought 
cuddling me
here I'm the me, Sin Refugee
wandering port to city
known to unknowingly

no home I make
on the dew of arum leaf
shining more than rising sun
but after a while much burn

I'm in the burned heart
burning odour I'm in the ghost
likely most living in death


-27/11/19 CTG, BD

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Caren Krutsinger December 4, 2019 at 12:50 AM The mortification of thought has actually ended up well thought out in this poem, Mahtab!

Pace Ink-U-Script November 27, 2019 at 9:57 AM Such a powerful piece written here!