Where Dreams Lie Buried

My dream is spent, dissolved in waning breath,

It blooms no more beneath the sun’s kind eye;

That face once fair, now sworn away by death

Of time, whose scythe lets even longing die.

Her name, once writ in fire upon my soul,

Now fades like mist at morning’s silent call;

Desire itself grows weary of its role,

And love stands mute within a barren hall.

The days wear grey, the evenings limp with pain,

No blade of green will rise where hope hath trod;

Life’s river runs through field and town and plain,

Yet leaves me thirsting, cursed by fate and God.

Perchance she walks where ancient forests sigh,

Nor knows the heart that breaks for her alone;

Or dwells where lamps in distant cities lie,

While I keep watch, companioned by stone.

The world doth sleep; I wake to hear the earth

Confess soft truths to grasses bowed and still.

Once burned a spark that promised me rebirth,

Now ash remains, obedient to will.

No birds disturb the silence of the air,

No wing dares beat against the heavy sky;

All dreams lie buried, nameless, unaware,

And I remain, condemned to watch them lie.

Yet still I walk, though time my flesh unbind,

A mortal shade in endless hours confined,

Still seeking her whom fate hath left behind.

©️ Debasish Das