By Swastik Shekhar Sarkar
And each time it rained,
He would reach out with his hands
From that little barred widow in his cell
To feel her tears
Wash away his blood.
For with his blood,
Hope bloomed
By Swastik Shekhar Sarkar
top of page
Recent Posts
See AllBy Shonil Gramopadhye In those morbid sleepless nights, A voice echoes and cites, The questions and doubts, The wrongs and rights, What...
00
By Prachi Raghuwanshi हां, उनका इत्र आज भी मुझे याद हैहां, उनकी आँखों का वो गेरेुआ रंग मुझे याद हैहां, याद है मुझे उनका हर तरीका,...
00
By Joyal Gupta The crumbled-up papers lie Unseen in the attic, A smile is left behind Even by the feel of 'me. All those memories that...
00
5件のコメント
5つ星のうち0と評価されています。
まだ評価がありません
bottom of page
Very nice 👍
Nice peotry
Splendid depiction of the feelings of a POW
Lovely
Superb