The Last Journey
The wheels ran on the tracks of rail-
Through the window the air gushed as a strong gale-
Upon the two serpents rushed and dashed the mail-
Carrying many a reflection, which upon it hath set the sail.
Sometimes it went intrepid through mysterious tunnels,
Sometimes it thundererd over wide canals ,
Sometimes the journey resembled repose-
When it over the plains tip-toed.
Inside the mail beside an open door -
Sat a lass on the uncombed floor;
Dressed as she was most slovenly ,
Left was she in such a fate by all and sundry.
Suddenly a voice of her rang through the air,
Towards a person who was a tea vendor,
Give me some tea -she tried to speak aloud -
Offering a coin of twenty five paise again did she shout.
The venndor passrd unheared,
His phony maners pricked my heart;
She sat and seemed to muse -
That she offered money and still was refused.
The motley of passengers,to help her--
All at heart were willing;
But it could be below thier dignity,
Of what were they fearing.
Then a person rose and like a foreman,
He did lend his helping hand;
Some read for her did he buy-
But when he want to her,to this nice guy,
And to this nasty world she haealready bade her last bye.
The mail seemed to run faster,
To carry the pure soul to her home's corner;
But, where will it find her destination?
When with her carrier only she had her home's relation.
Outside in the sea of darkness,many a dazzle blinked -
But for this poor lass the light of life forever did shrink,
Did this mean to a new light was she exposed?
And,did to hersoul the mysterious eternal dark disclose?
Copyright © Sonnet Mondal World Poet | Year Posted 2008
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