a poem by Obaidur Rahman, Bangladesh

Don’t care anymore, what my future would be,
Without spirit….there is nothing me.
Sleep don’t wrap me up no more, nor time do usher the heal,
I sink in my bed, just got days to kill.

Late at night, I hear them calling, calling my name,
All my sins’ say, “Sinner, it’s you to blame”.
In between these changes, and I know I ain't the same, My life ain't no picture, can't put it in a frame.

I lie awake till my dreams wake me up,
And at the desperation of the hour, all just go hic-cup.
Winds of change, can you fly me to a new height…..
Can you promise me the dawn, so that I can make it tonight?

Still, round and round, circle around,
But I know someday, I’m gonna be found,
Then build a home, where I belong, where I am bound.

(C) Obaidur Rahman. Published in the poet’s debut book of English poetry titled “The Mystic Inferno” in 2012.

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