If you can, will you go with me,
this far away? Where the darkness
will be little after the blue.
Will you come with me, in the lap
of white clouds? Where the birds fly,
with steady wings. Will you come
with anklets jingling in the evening
worship room? Even after you are
gone, the rhythm will remain.
Will you come with me, while climbing
to the highest peak? How is the stream
of water, flowing in your mind.
Do you hear, that incomplete poem?
I will light it in your warm heart,
an extinguished slush. Do you want
to cross, if I ever say, that small
river that everyone calls life.
Do you know what is right and
what is wrong? It started moving
right, but suddenly it left. Have you
ever realized, how empty this life is?
Open your fist and see once,
the sand of memories will fall.
Prasenjit Das © 1997-2026
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