The impression of the tear
My sweetheart shed in feigned anger
The memory of the funeral pyre
Kindled on the deathbed of a banyan tree
The flotsam rudder reminiscing
Its ship lost on the high seas
The heady recollection of his ultimate dream
Reflecting in Spartacus’s eyes
The resonance of the cock-a-doodle-doo
At the break of a new dawn…
Such impressions are ever green weapons …
Yesterday’s memories are today’s lighthouses…
And, Today’s memories are morrow’s marching songs.
.
Sivasagar

స్పందించండి