Brooding time bears the testimony of an uncanny world
Devouring the precious moments even before they can run freely
Like a fierce competition against another reality trying to merge
Plucking the roots and leaving the earth fallow in troubled paradise
None can see the end of time that like a serpent’s fangs are bifurcated
Sometimes the night just whistles past the desolate houses
Strange occurrences the morning next like an uneasy appearance
Not yet ready to wake up the souls asleep for spells of past millennium
Time may not be the same again as friendly it used to be
~Amitav Chowdhury