By
Sonnet Mondal
Two Worlds
A blue lake captures my soul in its
unmeasured, unimaginable depths
where a new world better than lands
survive drinking immortality.
Howling wolves pierce melancholy
and the dropping leaves stuck with
fever of spring bows down
before the majestic stance
of endless sky and waters.
Echo of unknown sounds emerging
from the interstices of the woods
run wildly, circle around ears
like unquenched souls.
Striking against trunks topless trees
they become one with lingering serenity.
The bridge connecting them to my land
is left broken for years,
perhaps broken by the Gods
and none has dared to swim across
for both worlds get bewildered
with the laws in either side of the bridge.
Guerrillas
Look
how they walk together- our heralds
as guerrillas scream for food in huts
with crumbled breasts
clinging onto the lips of baby skeletons.
NO, there isn’t anything dark in it.
The stars are brighter than ever today;
Each one as intense and unwavering as the pole star
crowding beside the streets of our national gate.
God bless their firmness!
We are still wondering…
seeing you two in our ‘national television’,
if we can ever see our reflection
in the polished skin of those escorting cars behind you.
Smiling in a stance which you might term Satanic
We are walking with earth above our head.
The vanity cars:
They will surely show us our faces,
once these roads are complete.
Seeing how we look then,
we will surely laugh
like guerrillas.
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