The Prism
Thursday, March 31, 2005 | 4 comments
byBiswanath Dutta
Why does it beat?
Why do I hear the rhythm?
When I already know
that I couldn't pass through the prism.
Things looked rosy,
and everything else was fine.
Darn! those strings,
lest I would have crossed the line.
The strings were taut,
and strong as steel.
Oh! a perpetual hindrance,
that I always feel.
Those shiny white things,
that tempted my eyes,
now look pale,
filled with vice.
Desperate to try
to make the strings dance
with the hope of letting loose
I hold my belief in chance.
It still does beat!
I still hear the rhythm.
Like the sun rays I will!
I will pass through the prism.
Thursday, March 31, 2005 | permalink | 4 comments
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4 Comments:
Great work BD :)
By Anonymous, at April 02, 2005 6:57 AM
Wow, BD, you wrote this? Na karo!
By Nickie`, at April 02, 2005 7:44 AM
thankew thankew!
By BD, at April 03, 2005 10:02 AM
arre wah - badhiya poem. :)
By morpheus, at April 06, 2005 1:39 AM
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