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Sankhajit Bhattacharjee Poem 198

Scientific Research Fellow in University of Wisconsin, Milwaukee


That cloud when covers the sun,

the sky of my life gets dark

and when one moves away,

the very sky becomes illuminated.

O! The cloud I’m afraid of you-

you are the dictator of my life and living,

you are the charioteer and I’m the chariot.

Your appearance is like dark grey fumes,

which I fail to recognize often.

I fear if I lose my way inside your ever unknown fumes

who will rescue me?

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