Sunday, May 26, 2013

The Darkest Hour

Give me wings,Lord
So that they would burn
And ashes would decorate
Your sky, living a black death
For the horns of morality
Have blown and long been silenced.

There are flag bearers in a world
Where ethics protect the unethical,
One of your worlds, dear Lord-
A network of pipelines of mistrust.

But a few can hear the cold sirens
The gift, you bestowed them with
So that you could be summoned;
So as the courtrooms turn into pyres
A call sets out in your search,
The darkest hour weighs heavy on us.

No comments:

Post a Comment

বন্ধু

 ভোর-রাতে, নিঃশব্দে সময় এসেছিল পাশে  জীবনের কিছু ক্ষণ নিয়ে অণুবীক্ষণ যন্ত্রে । হাতে হাত, পুরোনো দুই বন্ধুর দেখা বহুদিন পর; হঠাৎ করেই খুঁজে...