Alone I was, <br />And wished, <br />To have a mate, <br />Said the nasty street, <br />With her faceless face. <br /> <br />An anchor assumed he, <br />As imagination equals me, <br />And now in the street, <br />With sparrow, and wolf, <br />My mates, - rate and taste, <br />Me and the fire of my book <br /> <br />In the evening rises the sun, <br />As the night grows my day starts, <br />The cock and hen, bear squirrel, <br />Replace with blue and red light. <br /> <br />My mirror, reflects broken shadows, <br />Of a whole African -forest, like ghosts, <br />Of stamp-less ages, that seek dens, <br />And my God, I think is still with them! <br /> <br />My days and fate are for dates, <br />Still this vehicle sounds well, <br />And wilds the drivers’ frenzy, <br />A sail of ecstasy of no man’s land!<br /><br />Bazi alis Subrata Ray<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-broken-glass-4/
