Best Desolated Poems
The Desolated Greatness
ABAB
The brooding copse of archaic place,
where many stories lived and died,
rapturous and dismal both interlace,
to charm all, as in thousand hearts it resides.
Where peacock fawn, to win the mate,
and nightingale sing surmised
and where brown-recluse spider wait,
and search its life disguised.
The echoed heaven, with multitude
of songs and cries,
of birds in solitude
or in group as they flies.
The squirrels jump and pop around,
and enjoy the april scene,
as all of them ecstatic found,
with all hearts eager, all eyes keen.
The fragrance was in the air
of full blown flowers and old
which drops here and there
cries, hopes and become cold.
The winnowing winds of adjacent field,
ruffles the hairs of indolent calves
which nothing now can yield,
but deplete the fodder to halves.
Pinkish flamingoes grace the lake
which dips and uplifts
its beak in serene water, and take
the required and drifts.
The trodden path midst this greatness
reminds us of its splendid past
and also of nature's creativeness,
which is only left at last.
-:AKASH SANGWAN
Centuries are done!
But my land and I exist yet,
Under the visage of desolation,
Camouflaged by an arrogant power;
Bloody soldier, assassin, executioner
Amending, mastering it;
While I stay in abstract hatred,
Robbed off my cream of youth,
Whose blood has left no stain;
There, on the blood-saturated land,
And set up, halted in mockery,
I watch the mockery of time prevail;
While my clamors rise and die,
From waning throats void of charm;
Yet, claiming to breach the walls,
These labyrinthine walls rosy-red!
Painted by the blackened blood of innocence,
Leading a stair of my ancestral stair!
Persecuted by that savage beast,
Still, famished, void is their gut!
And to my rueful disaster,
I slumber!
Cushioned by my half-dead people
Walking in the procession of death;
Towards their safe haven.
But I exist yet,
Brooding upon my mute calamity;
That brings naught but humiliation,
Before my soul; Crestfallen;
Plagued every day and every night,
By dint of a dawdling tempest,
Lingering upon my lamely eye,
Lamenting upon my beleaguered land,
For my heaven has come to a stroke of doom!
So many thoughts
So many concerns
As the world spins
My mind overrun
By emotions and thoughts
All the good and all the worst
I rewind the past only to learn
Even though it hurts
I'm left with an abstract memory
I sit and watch the drama before me
With ink stains
Mind racing at fast pace
Sadness of my empty soul awake
Feeling nothing but hate
Feeling desolate
That's when it began
Haunting me to this day
As I lay on a heap of mess
On the edge of death
Frozen by shock drenched in sweat
Into the world without care
And you are there somewhere, out there
Directed into places unknown
Not knowing your way back home..
Beside the wall's ears
Eavesdropping heart feels alone
Tears in misty moss
-11.12.2020 Chattogram
My soul’s a shell with wind of time
That blows inside forever
The hollow roar of waves it hides
Although its calm as ever
My mind’s a desolated street
To fields of green and meadows
It leads but not a face I meet
Beneath the tangled shadows
Gone is the 16 Marroway
Gone is the Jansel Square
The garden where Pippa played
Has vanished in the air
My heart’s a cactus on your sill
Under the heating sun
It hopes for water you could spill
Although it knows you can’t
You disappeared in the space
But you remain in time
I know for sure there’ll be a place
For us, and some fine wine.