Solemn landscapes offer no welcome to the wind
Feels like a vagabond has trespassed at this hour of dusk
Those preparing to go home are collecting their thoughts
Trudging along with heavy hearts of unfulfilled dreams
Journeying straight paths feel like the steepest climb
Echoes sigh of boredom; indifference to all the sayings
Stories are being noted, but misty eyes blur the sentences
At this faint hour, even the boldest seems to be subdued
~Amitav
Amitav Chowdhury 