Santosh Kumar Biswa - WHITE DOVE

White Dove
An Anthology of Love, Peace, Fidelity and Humanity by Santosh Kumar Biswa
A Dismal Song of Meadowlark
A Meadowlark by the wood in yellow breast
Raised its wings high with a dismal song
Ne'er before, to call its kind to mourn in torment
And the sun towards the dusk to bear witness
Of their comrade to congress over the demerit.
The sky yauped to wail, the sun reversed cerise,
The cloud to veil the golden floor of heaven
In anger for fellowship to the pod's blatting.
Still woods stooped around with its lid shut,
Less food remains; drought to occur shortly,
A warm breeze to halt their vitality to produce,
Since few they remain, all are gone in shapes.
The assemblage sang 'bout the shortfalls
And the tapering refuge that's beyond control,
Foreknowing the peril of their young ones
Close to their resort, for the cruel hand never halt.
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