Details |
Swagat Bhattacharjee Poem
This frustration strikes me each day
My efforts seem obsolete.
With every passing second i think,
if there's bliss i should ever meet?
Life has got stagnant.
Even the air seems immobile.
I search for refuge,
a friend of need, may be, for a while.
I search for refuge,
in poems of all might.
The darkest of them all
to me, seem just right.
I crawl helplessly
Battling the heart and mind.
But the world is busy it seems
To give a thought of such kind.
Freedom is all that i need now
I'm sighting an end thats truly mine.
And so there would be less to lose
And quit life,
something i could never define!
Copyright © Swagat Bhattacharjee | Year Posted 2011
|
Details |
Swagat Bhattacharjee Poem
I feel this breeze fading away.
I want to hold on, but she doesn't!
i'm now beginning to doubt this way,
That this essence i cherish is barely pleasant!
I thought you were a part of me
But this foolish lover would never speak out.
And hopes i would always see
Now seem like land dreaded by a drought.
But life changes over and again
with stones replacing hearts.
There's nothing much left to complain
and keep crying with those broken parts.
I lost the taste of living i suppose
See even music now sounds passive.
Dear, i never loved you with a purpose;
Since i lost more than i could conceive.
Now i think, just hypocrites advocate love.
The world spells just ego and its ally.
Having felt the wrath and heard them bluff,
with trembling fingers i etch 'Goodbye! '
Copyright © Swagat Bhattacharjee | Year Posted 2011
|
Details |
Swagat Bhattacharjee Poem
The thoughts that spark,
the Spark in the Dark.
A Line the Poet writes,
the Beauty that strikes.
I feel 'em in you.
You are the Notion to my Realisation.
Your name that speaks
and echoes through gorges deep.
Your eyes that blink
and force me to think-
You're beauty uncharred.
You are the Essence of my Inspiration.
Aren't you the mystic Queen?
Or for least the Princess serene? ?
Have I not felt you in some myth?
Or the one, for ages, i've been with? ?
Are you really there? I feel
You're the Mistress of my Imagination.
But you seem so alive.
For your glimpse each day, I survive.
You are, in someway, assorted with the air
I breathe and yet, was never aware.
Yes, O dear, now I know
You surely are, The patron of my Animation.
You are an enigmatic Sensation.
And my definition to Perfection.
You are my Castle of Spain;
Forget it, you're much tougher to explain.
Whatever you are,
You are my Eternal Satisfaction...
Copyright © Swagat Bhattacharjee | Year Posted 2011
|