Soliloquy
When the bout of reason,
Turns out to be wild,
You fumble with you conscience;
And cry like a child,
Unaware you stare,
At the red rose by the grave,
Your observation drowns,
With your soul in a sorrow wave;
Nothingness grips you,
You hear no heart- beat,
Not even the lark,
On the tombstone, chirp;
Then the solitude is broken,
As you hear, voices sing,
You look around to search,
But, find no human being,
Yet the splendour of the song,
In tranquillity, lingers behind,
For it is the grace of your heart,
In Soliloquy with your mind.
Published in 2015
Copyright © Pradipta Roy Choudhury | Year Posted 2018
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