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you told me lot of stories
in the moonlit night

stars above
and the moon alone
listened your words......

far away, some one is singing a song
song of desire and despair
song of departure.......

a story about a queen
who buried a sword
in the beating heart

no blood was there
only tears
stars and moon witnessed the ******....all alone

quick sand every where

(C)asoke kumar mitra, mar 31, 2015, 18:49 India,Kolkata
no place of love, quick sands every where
remembering, you  wrote letters....
described the situation....
you said, will back home soon.....
days, week. fortnight, months gone
its going to be ten months.....
no letters, no phone calls

last time you wrote from Paris...
the date was May 13,2014...

waiting for you
at breakfast table, empty chair.....
half empty glass
how long......this silence....

I am listening my own heart beat
my own song......sinking in quick sand.


(C)asoke kumar mitra.Mar.22,2015 :23.45 India.Kolkata
lost love
In the name of God we come undone. Violence justified, theology under the gun. Microscopic dissection of every word, while the underlying truths go unheard. Brothers and sisters are at odds, implanting hatred, unraveling the innocence. Venomous bites poison the soul, in all of this quarreling, we've lost our love, forgotten our purpose, with blindness we are overcome. See the good in your brothers, sisters share your heavenly peace, nurture your children to freely live and love in peace.
~ω~⊙~ω~

someday you will see
sweet tender moments a gift
not to be ignored


~⊙~ω⊙ω~⊙~


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