Files after files
Stacked in piles
Kissed by myriads of flies
And caressed by layers of dust.
Lie the memories of the shredded past.
Touch them not.
Let them be
Let the gash of guilt be clogged.
The phantom dagger had touched the golden blood once.
Let it not every dream, every night.
Draw not meanings from that little kerchief
That doomed the love of the moor
Stack them
Pack them
Throw them away
The dusty death is not for you.
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i don't think i have a bit in me to comment on such wonderful piece of work. All Hail frnd , all hail sohini , all hail to ur spirit.
ReplyDeleteawe-sadharon lekha...waiting for more to come...great work
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