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  • sumana_chakraborty 7h

    #pod#writersnetwork#mirakee@writersnetwork@mirakee

    The last line partly a product of inspiration from William Shakespeare's "The Tempest" Epilogue part.

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    Monotony of chilling winter encroached me like anything even in this raging summer
    Yet that subtle, strong desire to scribble lines,
    words, metaphors kept me awake the whole night.
    I kept dreaming of writing crimson haikus of autumn,
    green and lilac sonnets of spring.
    Yet I don't know why that obscure hurdle kept me away from my writing.
    That ouevre of poesies ,
    my boulevard , my music of life , my ultimate SHELTER from this desolate life seems loved me not anymore.
    A hard block of stone stuck in between my pharynx and epiglottis.
    My breathing became difficult slowly and gradually.
    Nights are now longer and darker , darker than ever.
    I now lie dormant on dead metaphors and epilogues where once poesies glowed.
    Now all my charms are gone, my abilities faded.

    ©sumana_chakraborty

  • sumana_chakraborty 1w

    You will emerge as a writer the day ,
    you start loving your inner instinct , passion , perceptions
    and try to connect them with words , emotions , seas , moon , stars and night and present them in the most lovable way that they become an art ,
    an ouevre of ravishing masterpiece to the eye of each and every beholder.
    ©sumana_chakraborty

  • sumana_chakraborty 1w

    #pod#stitch#writersnetwork#mirakee@writersnetwork@mirakee

    Stitch not my wounds
    Their depth and pain
    I adore , alone
    Mend them not a bit
    Heal them not
    With plethora of fake sweet knit.
    Let them flow
    Let me grow
    Let them ooze out
    Where our conscience glow
    Where heart bleeds
    Where words wail
    Where tears form waves
    At the threshold of ruthless strain
    Where mountains of stifling grief
    Block marathon of breathless breath
    I'll sit and stare then
    on the other side of the solitude's lane
    Rub my orbs, stretch my efforts
    Start anew
    painting a New Horizon.

    ©sumana_chakraborty

    Thank you so much @writersnetwork ♥️♥️♥️for the kind repost.

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    Stitch not my wounds
    Their depth and pain
    I adore , alone
    Mend them not a bit
    Heal them not
    With plethora of fake sweet knit.
    Let them flow
    Let me grow
    Let them ooze out
    Where our conscience glow
    Where heart bleeds
    Where words wail
    Where tears form waves
    At the threshold of ruthless strain.
    (read the caption pls.)
    ©sumana_chakraborty

  • sumana_chakraborty 2w

    Within this plethora of opulence of life
    Amidst the heave of morrow's solitude
    I painted your visage's smile
    The beauty I coloured
    with my ephemeral love
    when orbs yelled
    under the latent glow of numerous pain.
    We sailed seas and miles
    Crossed hurdles so wide
    Our ship of Titanic
    never sank under the
    groaning grief of coldest night
    And then came
    giggling fall of zillion stars
    Flooded with moonlight
    illuminating Jasmines so white
    at the coppice fence
    of our lavender hued fragrant life.
    ©sumana_chakraborty

  • sumana_chakraborty 2w

    I meet fear
    every now and then,
    in every ruthless street
    of hunger,
    poverty
    and trembling voice
    of an insecured woman.
    ©sumana_chakraborty

  • sumana_chakraborty 3w

    White colour attire
    with intricate and
    subtle stitches of kindness
    woven with myriad hues
    of politeness, honesty
    and justice is best suited
    when draped on human soul.
    ©sumana_chakraborty

  • sumana_chakraborty 4w

    My crazy summer love melted
    in the orbs of your
    bewildering poetry
    to drizzle and croon,
    mingle and bloom,
    daffodils of our conjoined heart
    in the crimson month
    of beguiling February.
    ©sumana_chakraborty

  • sumana_chakraborty 4w

    I've learnt with my
    entire heart and soul
    that not to belittle any creature
    howsoever insignificant or small.
    It happened occasionally
    those whom l neglected
    kept asunder
    they emerged
    as important and vital.

    //Integrity, impartiality, fearlessness are a leader's inherent essence//
    ©sumana_chakraborty

  • sumana_chakraborty 4w

    Our imagination flies
    Like colourful fluttering butterflies
    High , up so high where reasoning vaporise
    Where reality readily evaporates
    Logics step aside.
    ©sumana_chakraborty

  • sumana_chakraborty 4w

    I inhale regrets and exhale blues
    I live and die thousand times
    But never metamorphose
    I linger on failures
    Dwell on sorrows
    Tempest of troubles
    Dwindle hopes.

    Propel barque
    Betwixt inclementing climes
    It takes time to overcome tides
    It's only when sailors take strides
    Words become lyrics
    Amidst billowing ocean of pain
    in solitude of silence.
    ©sumana_chakraborty