Good bye

Somdatta Mitra

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Good bye

The flames of the funeral pyre provoked my emotions deliberately ,

Bidding goodbye to my departed father in a hortatory.

I detonated to the whole world in a fury ,

I was shattered and crumbled into a depressant for many years.

Reminiscences of the warmth like a potpourri ,

I used to mirror my past in a soulful resonance of his touch and smile.

My father was a paragon of innocence and affection,

I grew receiving the primordial attention and love with a protection.

The venerable truth is that he was the best guide,

Who uplifted my courage and confidence today.

To bid him a farewell in such a premature age ,

When I was under a shell and unknown to the ferocity of nature in an assuage.

Continuous tears disembogued my pain into a raucous rove.

Unprecedented situations often trigger a catastrophe ,

With a plethora of complaints I sat beside the funeral pyre to salute his presence.

In an uproar I reciprocated my jeopardy,

In an uneasiness a silence overpowered my existance as an adult.

Like a kettledrum I lambasted my destiny which was utter shocking ,

Bidding farewell to my dead father on the contrary ;

was a threat to my existance.

A rebel which uprooted the innocence of a young adult ,

To continuously confront the tormentations and tortures.

Good bye ! I uttered in a miserable lament ,

Shall be your daughter in each and every birth to origin.

A moaning did not arise a compassion or empathy in the surroundings,

It was unexpected how I had to struggle with each moment ;

In a deprivation that infected my rectitude.

He was the healer and the rhyolite whose rhibaldry invigorated so many spirits.

Somdatta Mitra