By Partho Sen
Oh my poor, poor, loving heart,
Where had you been, amidst all the dark,
Amidst all the sorrow, clinging to joys in vain,
But oh where had you been, when love led to pain?
When all hope was nigh lost, when her embers gave in to frost,
Did it not once your shallow bodice cross?
That in spite of despondence, birthing a moment insincere,
From those brave and lovely eyes, there rolled down a tear,
Visible to sight, palpable to sense,
But hidden from your absconding and hedonistic lens.
And whence,
By final virtue of love, a modicum of care,
Out of your ashes there rose a vestigial flare,
Plagued by indecision, a failing vision,
Still lost in yesteryear, pondering the many roads not taken,
When all the while, led on by trembling gait,
The expression worsened on her somber face.
And then, soon approached the last stride forward,
You turned your back, walked onward,
Failing to realize that one dismal choice,
Irreparably shut off her timid voice,
For, as the journey back home began with a cheerless start,
The winds felt a quiver; the crack of a broken heart
By Partho Sen
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