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Myths of Stones
Far into these stones of silences
soft in the smell of history
from watery chaos to cosmic egg
whose return to words I am waiting for?
We are delivered by myths
where lay our old fever of love.
Time and the boat, victories and losses
the rise and fall in the Nile water.
There I may meet King Menes on a late summer night
when centuries drift to hold a larger life
This sleep is a book where I meet
Colossi of Memnon in the silence and noise.
My fears of losing receive no one.
My unwarranted fulfilments of tomorrows
are bare faces of lives connected somewhere before,
lives disconnected without reasons.
Now I stand among flurry desires
in the gates of the ruined Mortuary temple.
These ruins are my own like my faiths.
How can I forget all I hold
before I go for a long sleep?
Copyright ©
Jaydeep Sarangi
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