I have spoken to the stars
to crumble in my dream
I have spent hours to observe
when the whole city sleeps at night
I have soaked myself
by the September drizzle to relief
I have climbed ladders
to stare at last flight of the day
I have got a habit of insomnia
as my eyes lashes dont beat.

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I never knew what love makes us feel
when we separate ourselves
from someone special to our heart.

I am admitting the admiration of grief
what separation means when she left me.

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সমস্ত অবহেলায় আমি পেয়েছি স্বীকৃতি,
ভালোবাসা করেছে খেলার আবির্ভাবে অভিনয়,
তোমায় হৃদয় কোলে তখন ছিলাম এখনও আছি,
স্বীকার হবেনা শেষ নিশ্বাস টুকু মিমির পরাজয়।

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I ponder,
the water of roof pipe
falling into clouds,
the shower of a sparrow
on the voltaic cable,
the flock of dogs mating
on the neighbourhood,
the sugar drizzles
in every september!,
the singing of
half-mental women,
the chill wind on chest
and firy is my blanket.

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in my melancholic dream,
i'm decorated by
the tiny daisies and leaflets
in a tomb stone in patience,
the hours goes on quite,
dusty grasses and cups
on the ground.
I can gaze the million
like a lifeless statue.

-

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You were the nicest of treasure
I hadn't regretted ever,
I had neither vilify any women,
even when they sliced up my feather.
Like a lost man, I have grown strong
stronger than the cliff stones.
I had preserved my mistakes,
planted them in a balcony case.
My laughter is a ephemeral snake,
My tears are rippling foams.
My joy is a ludicrous with noises,
My mind is a jar of black fumes.
Your hands cared me like a father
who knew it would decay from void?
That couch was a tender bed,
one which every groom deserves that.
And not all men can see through,
what i used to, what are inside me.

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I wished not to return at you,
but the fragile leaves entangled
my heart like climbers
has written all your words
and now, its seems like
they utter your instincts
in my ear drums every day.

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"Life"

Life is a mansion, reserved by tornados
ached by stunted brookes and dukes.
Life is a wood in amazon, with shortages
of junctions and fodder for sure.
Life is a circus any stuntmen or giant,
may die astoundingly hitting on the floor.
Life is a victim of momentarily pressures,
when the emotions are admitted in ICU.
Life is a gift of flowers and fortunes,
struggles of high ranges to explore.
Life is a flipping coin in the floating air,
good or bad people join and move.
Life is saturated when not caressed
by any true women like a grandmother.
Life is clutched by miracles,
downtrodden by the lovely truce.

And the most beautiful thing in life-
In between life and death
is the happiness, is being swept away.

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