The palace of my imagination
Will soon be collapsed!
One day I will just be left with my memories.
Silver tint of the moon will not dance on my palm.
I will not look up at the starry sky.
Or I will never converse with the keen nights!
The thin veins on the green leaves will not invite me to touch them.
One day I will forget the green smell of tender leaves.
I will not hear the heavenly sound, that no one hears.
Then, I have to cope with the earthly noise.
I will lose the soul where I find peace,
I afraid, I will forget to compose verses;
The only way I speak!
Soon my beloved palace will be collapsed,
Its wall is made of sweet memories,
the window and the door are made of my poems.
Even the wind takes my permission to enter.
And the roof, I chose, is the dark clouds where sometimes, rainbow peeks.
I will reach at the moment when death and life will be the same.
An unprecedented inner destruction of me!
The writer is a student of BRAC University.