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Puroja Bhattacharya Poem
Steel-bound words once carved in stone, Now rust in whispers, dead and alone.
The oaths we swore in fire and ash, Lie shattered now, mere ghosts of past.
A blade was drawn, a wound was made, Yet scars still whisper, cold and frayed.
Beneath the weight of silent screams, The echoes writhe, the soul redeems.
Ink turns black beneath the skin, A tale of ruin carved within.
The hands once strong now shake in dust, Their bones betray their hollow trust.
A crimson sun, a starving tide, A love undone, a fate denied.
The night is long, the shadows call, They dance in halls where secrets fall.
A requiem hums in fractured breath, Where promises drown and love meets death.
Copyright © Puroja Bhattacharya | Year Posted 2025
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Puroja Bhattacharya Poem
Each day I stand before the glass,
A meeting where truths unmask.
She waits for me with patient eyes,
Reflecting what I oft despise.
She shows me depths I never knew,
What I’ve ignored, what I misconstrue.
Her silent empathy, her tender care,
She cries for me, always there.
“It is okay, mate,” her whispers say,
Guiding me through shadows grey.
At times I hate, at times I adore,
This bond, a struggle, a rapport.
Unique she is, the soul I see,
No one knows her better than me.
Through love, through tears, she molds my core,
My compass in life, forevermore.
Copyright © Puroja Bhattacharya | Year Posted 2025
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Puroja Bhattacharya Poem
Yet where there were curses , you will find scars, Where I found my secrets, you will see my quiet lies. What pain hides, it also still shows, Its fact hoed through ruined trails, it snares.
In shadowed dark, a fire still gleams, An ember bright that even pain redeems. The knives that gut are mirrors, clothed in mourning, Reflecting strength once buried beyond understanding.
We learn to draw a sharp edge by hand, To forge a shield of what one cannot stand. For shadows whisper stories, dark but bright, Of powers found where light is scarce and slight.
Behind the door, the soul finds light turn up, In shadows' tales, it learns to rise for us. The night is long, through wounds won, a future breathes, Where time’s embrace, in life, lays true to its sheathe.
From hushed hallways where voices of shadows call, A symphony of victory rings with thrall. The heart that braved each bitter eclipse. Now throws its dreams on dawn’s gentle lips.
Copyright © Puroja Bhattacharya | Year Posted 2025
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Puroja Bhattacharya Poem
A dagger’s kiss is cold and clean, But betrayal carves where none have seen.
It does not bleed, it does not scream, Yet haunts the soul in every dream.
A wound that festers, black and deep, A secret ache the heart must keep.
The hands once warm now twist the knife, A silent end to faith and life.
The tongue that swore in silver tones, Now drips with venom, sharp as bones.
A promise shattered, glass in veins, A love undone by whispered chains.
The eyes that swore they’d never stray, Now watch as hope is stripped away.
A wound unseen, yet felt so raw, A phantom claw that grips the jaw.
For daggers rust and wounds may close, But betrayal lingers, no one knows.
It wears no face, it speaks no name, Yet burns the soul in silent flame.
Copyright © Puroja Bhattacharya | Year Posted 2025
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Puroja Bhattacharya Poem
Do not turn back, the past is grave, Its echoes haunt, its hands enslave.
The road behind is lined with ghosts, Their voices call, their sorrows boast.
Each step you take, the past will plead, But forward lies the path you need.
The hands of time will twist and pull, Yet looking back will take its toll.
The doors you closed, the bridges burned, Will whisper still, though none return.
The past is cruel, it does not care, It waits to catch you unaware.
It wears the scent of rotting dreams, It hums in corridors unseen.
Its fingers claw through dust and bone, It sings in voices not its own.
The faces lost, the dreams decayed, Will drag you down where shadows fade.
So walk ahead, don’t turn around, For ghosts will pull you to the ground.
Copyright © Puroja Bhattacharya | Year Posted 2025
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Puroja Bhattacharya Poem
Love and sorrow walk as one, A bond unbroken, never undone.
For every kiss, a tear will fall, A whispered ache, a lover’s call.
The heart that loves must bear the weight, Of joy entwined with sorrow’s fate.
For love is cruel, it does not spare, It lingers long, yet leaves despair.
It wears a veil, it hums a tune, A melody of love and ruin.
Its hands are silk, its lips are fire, It sings of hope, then buries desire.
A lover’s touch, a mourner’s cry, A love that lives, yet begs to die.
It carves its name in skin and stone, It builds a throne, then sits alone.
For every vow, a wound is made, A promise carved, a price unpaid.
Yet in the dark where sorrow stays, Love still lingers, love still sways.
It wears a veil, it hums a tune, A melody of love and ruin.
Copyright © Puroja Bhattacharya | Year Posted 2025
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Puroja Bhattacharya Poem
I reached for guidance with trembling hands,
Hoping you’d notice, hoping you’d understand.
But silence followed every step I made,
A hopeful child left standing in the shade.
You were the mountain I tried to climb,
A distant peak I worshipped for a time.
I wanted wisdom, a mentor’s steady light,
Not a hero, just someone who’d show me right.
But I was invisible in your crowded skies,
Another face lost where your attention lies.
And while I waited with a faithful heart,
You never saw me or my quiet art.
Yes, I know, I didn’t lose you at all,
You can’t lose what never came to call.
But once you turned, forever you turned,
And the bridge you dropped, I let it burn.
Now if someday you search, or turn to see,
You won’t find someone aching, longing to be.
You’ll find a girl who grew where she once stood,
Who walks her own path, steady and good.
Not waiting for echoes you never sent,
But living her life, calm and content.
Copyright © Puroja Bhattacharya | Year Posted 2025
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Puroja Bhattacharya Poem
The words I spoke dissolved, unheard in empty halls,
Yet echoes now gather praise where silence once did fall.
My presence was ignored, my shadow brushed aside,
Now whispers of my leaving swell with unearned pride.
The hands that never touched me lay wreaths on empty air,
Their care blooms only where I no longer dare.
I walked through nights of cold, my fire hidden deep,
They honor the traces left, the secrets I could not keep.
In life I wore my scars, unheeded, sharp and raw,
In absence they are treasures, revealed to all they saw.
The doors I knocked on closed, yet now swing wide in memory,
A cruel kind of worship awaits the heart, no longer free.
I leave, I vanish, yet they finally see,
The weight of what I carried, the cost of being me.
Copyright © Puroja Bhattacharya | Year Posted 2025
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Puroja Bhattacharya Poem
When the mood is too heavy to wear, When emotions are salted and laid bare,Insecurity creeps on a whispering tread, An echo of shadows where courage once fled.
The slash of shame, a knife so sharp, Carves a wound in life’s fragile spark.Rejected dreams, a wing torn apart, Colors once bright now desert the heart.
Loneliness, unseen and unsought, it stalks, In aching silence, its chill always talks.It weighs like a shroud, heavy and stark, Thunderstorms rage, wild and unbowed in the dark.
But words, both fragile and mighty, ignite, Parting the darkness with shimmering light.The unspoken tremble beneath the fear, Yet hold the chains of bonds sincere.
When harsh words take root, their seeds grow, Vines of doubt climb where sunlight won’t go.Dismissive voices, cruel and unkind, Sink fragile dreams in a stormy mind.
Another face, invisible, yet still in the fray, Battles the unseen, struggles each passing day.So let words flow with care, with love, For silent battles, they’re mindful of.
Understanding is not always blind, Emotions weave threads, so tenderly aligned.In the maze of feelings, where hearts are bound, Solace in kindness is always found.
Copyright © Puroja Bhattacharya | Year Posted 2025
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Puroja Bhattacharya Poem
In halls where whispers echo thin and low,
I placed my words like seeds where no one grows.
A fleeting glance lit someone else's sky,
While mine sank quietly, unseen to the eye.
Hands that once could guide now felt like stone,
A warmth for another, for me, none shown.
I wrapped my heart in letters, careful and slow,
Sent into a space where shadows flow.
The sun that rose in hope fell cold and gray,
Yet still I kept my garden, though light betrayed.
Time stitched the wound where silence had stung,
And slowly I found strength in songs unsung.
Now echoes of praise arrive when I no longer wait,
I stand in my own light, unbound by fate.
Copyright © Puroja Bhattacharya | Year Posted 2025
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