There is No Pure Light

The era is quite dry, humid sometimes, but sudden deluge of nature’s rage

Dampened moods, there is no other way out of this conundrum

Light, not bright enough, clouded by the tired industries, demands, more demands

Not simple dreams, it’s said, “you’re a failure, when you lose the urge to possess more

Like a surrender to the persistent distractions, corners of life crowded

Devoured spaces take labored breaths; there aren’t many objects yet, slanting energy

I open the windows, yet light feels like a diatribe, wind like tired breaths

Dreams that belong to a fraternity, a secret circle of antagonistic desires

I find myself mostly in a haze, a kind of darkness that shames the night

Only depths of despair, but not enough depth to bury the unwanted distractions, the force-fed dreams

Curiosity and circling the quagmire, not even a thoughtful morsel of ideas, love lost in another world

Where once the souls dwelled, promising a lifetime of pure light, bright stars and sincere desires

-Amitav Chowdhury


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