Song Of The Soul… Dusmanta Choudhury

 

Wandering lonely I see a parrot
Sits in a branch & sings, I wrote
All that's true of all lives on earth
Why is born,& is dead,of no worth

So dark,so bright,spoken not to all
Toiling & spoiling,with hope to roll
Living & loving do never go same
Life is not at all as a sportive game

Smile all not in the bivouac of life
All those are sublime act in strife
Waits what fate, of black & white
One under conscience or is contrite

Time is fleeting but leaves no air
All that we face is destined so far
Why stems hope from all that's red
Moral in material seems to fade

Praise I the parrot to sing my poem
Of a song of the soul,to all of them
To all human souls in deep slumber
In so dark night a mournful number

Copyright @Dusmanta Choudhury