The Day of Reckoning
The Day of Reckoning,
thunder, and rain,
In the deluge of her teardrops,
pain, she yearned to end,
Yet, end never came;
her tears ran out,
Her soul, with the torrent,
transmigrated to drought,
Standing amidst the Apocalypse,
her silence - shout!
Somewhere in parched wilderness,
a blade of grass - sprout,
Gently she touched,
the green blade in the sand,
‘The Creation of Adam’,
her creator’s hand?
Copyright © Pradipta Roy Choudhury | Year Posted 2019
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