Sankhajit Bhattacharjee Poem 48

Author:

Scientific Research Fellow in University of Wisconsin, Milwaukee

FRUSTRATION

Everywhere there is silence.

Silent are the birds, silent are the tress,

silent are the plains, valleys and hills,

silent are the rivers and seas.

A devastating storm is coming

to engulf me within its abdomen.

I’ll be destroyed as a whole,

nothing of me will remain.

How will I save my life?

How will I find a way to get away?

My patience will certainly show me

the light of the day.