Out somewhere at the edge
of the world
A man in my dreams did I
see,
Deep in his eyes beneath
unknown skies
I could feel that he well
knew me.
Beyond the burning days
of the world and its ways
He had ridden over oceans
and waves.
He rode out wide against
the stubborn tide
Of thousands of pyres and
graves.
Beyond the walls of time,
across the fields of rhyme,
I could hear his voice
call me.
My dreams have I sold to
world dry and cold
To refuse him to set me
free?
Aritra Chakrabarti
5 PM, 23rd July, 2017
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