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sambidhan
Sambidhan Acharya
Nepal, Kathmandu, Kathmandu

Words: 260
Access: Public
Comments: 1

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GODFATHER'S swangsong

GODFATHER'S Swansong
-Sambidhan Acharya

Dusk is near,
Sun is in its setting position,
Darkness is knocking the world's door
I am heading to the death's world.

Now I remember my deeds
My mischief in which my mother had hit
That time I left the home
So, today I am crawling to reach the final dome.

My negligence to study has paid off
My interest on the bad deed has paid off,
I had given how many penalty I cannot count,
Yes I can say my death is among them I can shout.

I see all my so called friends lined up
Gazing at me waiting for my death so they can claim my place,
I can see those enemy who in my adolescence, had scolded in my misdeeds
But now I realize them they are my real friends.

I want to be good,
But my best friend bullet has made me a prey,
I want to request almighty please give me a chance
But it's is just staring me and asking the same question that I have asked him.

Darkness, black, damp that what I see,
Strikes, thunder, these all are punishing me at once,
I now have realized my responsibility,
But now it's for vain.

Oh! dear I can see no longer I can no longer stand bold
I want to live but the bullet is compelling me to die,
I am gone now but stand with the promise,
If there is another life after death, I will be a good man not godman

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prolificsantu Comment by: prolificsantu - 2008-03-30 08:13
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its winding up is really great...your peom tells us a general truth. we live on and on and on without givng a hoot to how we live. but as we go useless, fallow, and unenergetic, we sit down for accounting of what we did earlier. we want to settle the unsettled accounts but to no avail. how many friends we have left behind? the ones who dearly wanted to wlak with us were opted out. oh shit! how many have been afflicted by us. oh shit! how many were those who we tortured.again Oh shit! but have already done what we have done and drama king says done cannot be undone. we really want to die good, without any grunt. but we cannot really like the protagonist of Yeats' poem...the lamentation of old pensioner...my cahir was nearerst to the fire...i spit onto the face of time that has transfifured me into the one i am now. quite vain and orthodox we are now, right? we will all sing the song you wrote one day...If there is another life after death, I will be a good man not godman. can we ever be a man as you proposed, i really doubt. very good peom and true enough to brood over. worth enough to have its space in the WEST. i have really liked the peoms by Anne Adission, and you are the second i liked so much. good job.
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By sambidhan

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