Santosh Kumar Biswa - WHITE DOVE

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White DoveAn Anthology of Love, Peace, Fidelity and Humanity by Santosh Kumar BiswaOh mighty pen, let us work in concert to kill,But not like weapon and gun my fathers used,Best, let's kill those conceited minds of pride.I shall sharpen you like a sword, so acute,And shall drill to be precise in our surveyWith poetry to point the actus reus of the pastAnd then fight to redress the mind of humansFor poetry to prosper as the warrior of peace.44
White DoveAn Anthology of Love, Peace, Fidelity and Humanity by Santosh Kumar BiswaThe Nature cries afarLet's bestir for I can't baulk any longer,My heart shall erupt into pieces if I persist.Drums in my ears are screaming in tormentFor the vitiate verse of hatred to perceive.Furs in my nozzle are incapacitated to holdAccretive dusts and malodorous air to take.I am vexed about my lungs that upholds meFor I see obnubilate futurity of my toddlers.My mind is worn away, the nature cries afar,In solitary, I resist and see begrudging minds,Lost in self, the soil being made a trash barrel.Drains in the past were not what I see today,It became the home for skeeters that scathesAnd the numb minds are to rue for their deed.Let's bestir before the time haste to favor,Not to us, but for the soil to awake and reply.45
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Santosh Kumar Biswa - WHITE DOVE

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