'The Song of Dead Poets' poem by A.Anish.

The Song of Dead Poets

Sometimes I think upon thee,

Ceaseless cassette I wish to be.

Playing over again and again,

Amidst stuck in vain.

I think upon but not sometimes,

Like ringing bells often chimes.

In the stormy nights of churchyard,

When cloud weeps for the bard.*

Thou pleas’d me as pamper’d child,

Tossed me aside as time piled.

Let my trunk be feed for crow,

No man can break my flow.

Valiant verses veils chicken's heart,*

Tho’ my body flee from carte.*

Brave be my verse but lucid,

As I left behind to interpret.*

Passion towards thee ne'er fade,

A poet of love thou made.

When passion turned to obsess,

Distance grew 'tween us.

May my soul shall have leisures,

Hence I’m away from carpers.*

Tho’ panting soul craves for thee,

Soulless men calls me “body”.

Beyond the horizons I shall fleece,*

Allover I stay in leisure’s lease.

I shall fleece but not in anyplace,

Apart from thine trace.*

Neither will I curse nor blame thee,

Bless’d shall be under my lee.*

With me, to sing a song in garden,

And blossom the buds of Eden.*

When the days gone wrong,

I sing my sad old song.

In Heaven, I yearn for a life,

With thee as my wife.

-A.Anish.

*Bard - a poet; *lee - protection​; *Eden - A place in heaven where Adam and Eve soujorned;

*Fleece - to spread; *trace - existance (based on the context); *veil - to hide; *chicken's heart- coward; *carte - map; *carper - critic; *interpret - to give meaning.