Theme: Agony

His Voice

His voice brought forth the dusk again.
The pain-stricken flowers danced.
The verdurous gloom deepened.
Upon the willow tree, over the leaves
Colours of the old sky opened.
Weary time tossed her hair,
Something still weaves the air.
They say, 'His voice brought forth my dreams again.'


More By  :  Debalina Roychowdhury

Views: 1399     Comments: 3

Comments on this Poem

Comment 'His Voice' is actually voice of depth bounded by colourfull circles whose centres are time invariant....

Debashis Jana
03-Jun-2012 03:25 AM

Comment Your poetry often brings forth my dreams, and sometimes, my nightmares too...

Sharmistha Sen
28-May-2012 10:26 AM

Comment beautiful!!

27-May-2012 14:51 PM

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