Monsoon of Eyes by Puloq Arafat - HTML preview

Benevolence

Passed chronicle days with rigid fluctuation.

When a bird flies in the sky..

I repent why I can't fly like it freely.

A complete replication I sketch in my mind then.

In sober sense..

I want me as benevolent.

A bitter silent pain always knocks my door of mind.

My heart cries out with big questions.

What I have got

And I haven't got,

I count this continuously.

When sky roars-

And rain makes a crystal shadow on earth,

I desire to feel the touches of cool drops of rain.

Once I walked in a hottest sunny day.

It seemed I was floating on sweating.

I got the highest touch of suffering.

Now I don't have any endurance.

I didn’t compete with others.

Competing with self-lacking is good picking.

I am like a thirsty crow-

Trying to drink water from a jar full of mud!