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Pornika Ganguly Jan 2016
Oh! Enigmatic mother,
Capturing the unsuspecting we,
Trapped in thy surreal embrace,
Wondrous charms possess thee.
Ensnaring senses,
Thy promiscuous beauty,
Yet, the fools flee,
Beholding thy ******,
Earthy and bare,
Rustic and rare,
Thy charms lay unparalleled,
Polluted, slight, by repulse,
The ignominious souls,
From doors not crafted by thee,
Leave them ajar and welcome,
The mighty spirits of darkness,
Where evil makes thy heart numb,
And weaves it's sickly web,
Conjuring abominations and spells,
That the good man shall hope,
Never to hear, and terrible sights,
Never to see.

Cold azure skies transition,
To that which befits,
Our prosaic existence,
Shying away from thy brilliance,
Concealed within deep-seated layers,
Of well-practised pretence.

Thy pertilance, remains commendable,
Thou, the mother of all,
Now, perfunctorily cast aside,
Yet, it is thou, who shall mourn our fall.

Oh! Exuberant mother,
Let not the ship, be destined to doom,
Let the fresh buds bask, in eternal bloom,
And if the glorious fire of the sun,
Is ever to cease,
Let it be, for only, a new dawn,
For we, thy blood and thy flesh,
In all our greed and petulance,
Lay down and pay obeisance to thee,
And thee, alone.

Our fate awaits thy perusal,
Oh forgiving mother! Let humanity prevail.
Pornika Ganguly Mar 2018
Thou pierce thyself with thy dagger,

Moans of pain and anguish resound,

Thy comely grace reduced to a stagger

Splatter’d with glistens of blue blood embrowned



Thy fair brow quivers in disdain,

As thy firm resolves shake

All lies in naught and vain,

Akin to the incessant drops in thy wake;



‘Tis not an assay to summon the morrow

Nor honey to the swarming bees

An imperial flight for thy sorrow

Destined to traverse the impenetrable seas;



Perchance someday the ship shall capsize,

Beneath it shall be buried all the truth and lies.

— The End —