Poem By dipak adhya

The lady who is hidden in my dream
Does not believe me,
The lady who is often written by me
Or I draw her picture as I wish
She too
But with all my beliefs
With all my adorations
I tried to create an apostle
To love, to dream, to gossip, to roam...

Why does an anonymous stretch hands!
Why does a flower blooms on barren land!
Why does a friend
Often is regarded as Brutus!

I am ashamed to myself
For dreaming a beautiful dream
That has been turned into a heinous reality,
I am ashamed to myself for believing a poem
As my own world,
I am ashamed to myself
For leaning against a heart
As my own friend!

I know, there is a dark side also,
But I surrender only to light,
And pray for holy earth,
How can I touch your hand
When you see there
The stains are in black,

No, it is a teaching to me
And I should remain an outsider
From all
Who always see in me
Something different and something devilish!

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