Ah! That I'd but in dreams,
Sought thy visage for years and eons,
To heal good men from anguish'd moans,
And purge ill ones in thy pious streams.
Ireful blares; I'd learned from ages,
Can ne'er appease a noble mind,
And all that's gory, bleak and blind,
Heave entombed as bygone pages.
Greatest wonders e'er so made,
Art but fruits of a placid soul.
Battles ne'er can sate a goal,
And offer jubilant roads to tread.
I've seen 'em fight for lands and brooks,
Perhaps a baffled quest to win.
I've seen 'em frown and ne'er grin;
And prance in pride as triumphant dukes.
Antagonistic storms they face,
Yet ne'er for peace they yearn,
Civilisations decay and burn,
And a day turn into a departed race.
© Dipanjan Bhattacharjee