If you knew what you lost



The feisty river, its obstreperous rippling shores seem content to let go:

as turbulent waters edge past the eager bending shrubs-

they just flow, endless and eternal to ends best unfathomed.

The hands, they refrain and shiver at touch;

warmth forever- a reassurance that binds the fleeing heart,

a bed of flowers: anarchic, disharmonious

yet the ethereal fragrance; the magnificence may long sustain

what one lost.

Purity- where innocence shall rest;

the austere sky keeps on wandering through forgotten lands;

until the river and bed of flowers converge, submerging conscience’s monologue:

They stay on- obscure;

one and the same.


Sayandeep Das is a student at Hindu College. He has a passion for poetry, short stories, plays, articles, and philosophical fiction. He is an ardent devotee of nihilistic and existential schools of thought and considers figures like Franz Kafka, Friedrich Nietzsche, and Albert Camus to be his ideals.

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