Santosh Kumar Biswa - WHITE DOVE

White Dove
An Anthology of Love, Peace, Fidelity and Humanity by Santosh Kumar Biswa
But me, I can't resist, something bad I smell.
Look at her, the way she looks and mutters,
The way she holds tight her kids and mourn,
I smack the bad presage raising its voice high,
Count at that eagle above, at its fittest, primed,
My bosom is beating; look I can't walk as well.
How dare the man, hard at heart he is,
The man without the heart of living, so brutal.
If not for this pale lady, at least for those two,
He would have halted, but twisted his spine
To go forth forever with a damsel, he found.
Look at her, she blate like Alcestis once did,
I face in her the vivid act of Hippodamea.
Come all, at least for her to give sustenance
Have her not decay that her man once opted.
Oh my God! Look you all at this poor lady,
I count on her, to keep herself from busting
And to let her kids not to regret eternally,
She got down and let swallow the poison
To rest, all from the pain and to let you sing,
The tenor of their distress and pain they had
Forever to curse the man naked in mind.
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