OH! MATILDA!

Oh Matilda! Beloved of mine! 

I will soon be on my way…
I know it's war, but I’m fine!
I will reach by the end of May.

Sitting under the cherry tree,
sweet scent of the teen years -
clasped palms and memories free -
closed eyes with trickling tears…

Oh Matilda! Innocent you are! 
I’ll to you with open arms greet…
We are apart but I’m not far!
With lilies I’ll wait at end of street.

Oh Matilda! Keep your spirits high! 
I now will be on my way…
Close your eyes to see but not to sigh!
I will reach before the end of May

Oh Matilda! Please do not cry! 
Your warrior as promised is home…
I wished to see you, I really did try!
With my comrades, I now forever roam…

Oh Matilda! Do not hold onto me! 
My journey here is at an end…
I’m yours forever tho’ you needn't be!
Hold hands, walk a mile with a new friend…

PRASENJIT©2025

A THOUSAND CUTS

They came out of the shadows -
born out of the devil's lair.

Memories of the past as it goes -

deep wounds and cries filled the air.

An irony born out of hatred and lies -

inflict wounds, scratches and burn.

Pity how radicals dream and tries -

'a final reply' - it is now our turn.

They had no honour, loyalty or grit -

and rejected martyrs of their own.

Now the wheel turned, - we slit -

the cyst in bloom, they had sown.

Thru' 'n' thru' wounded, deep cuts -

and now the lion took its stand.

All stops - the else, ifs and buts

and chase out the snake and its band.

Their nation was born as tumour grew -

with poison to the core opened its fangs.

On rotten marrow they kept up the chew -

fate of innocents on the demon hangs.

Talked of hope and stabbed in the back -

the radical puppets did spill blood.

The wheel now turned full in its track -

their bloody actions will be buried in mud.

PRASENJIT©2025

THE BOOK IN COBWEBS

Let's bring down the old walls

and level the ground as it were.

Take a walk over the past brawls

and walk afar until no more stir.

Some cobwebs in dark memory lanes -

remain in every corner and nook.

The dust of betrayal on us reigns -

from every pages of the closed book.

Unknowingly one turns over old pages -

reliving again the pangs of pain.

Memories keep piling over the ages -

sweeping away dust, goes in vain

PRASENJIT©2025

A SLEEPLESS NIGHT

Does morning call upon the night 
or night chases till waking of day?

The calmness in its flow in full might,

however peaceful does not stay.

What is lost in day and never found -

the thrill of darkness in full might!

The hour of the owl comes around

and it silently flies eerily at night.

The break of dawn will come soon -

baby sparrow waits eagerly in its nest.

The sunshine on wings till mid-noon,

chirping happily till the evening's rest.

The sun lulls to sleep at end of day-

while the moon roams in all its silver.

Like an untiring child still at play -

the moon floats on a vast starry river.

PRASENJIT©2025

MY POLE STAR

I miss so much, I truly miss thee 

and tormented by cruel destiny.

I'm minute like the sand around, 'a speck' -

while you're a mountain in Nature's wake.

Incomprehensible then, the words you told -

some faded, some etched in memory of gold.

In my dreams, thee come but not stay -

thee words like pebbles paved my way.

You taught that not all things are taught -

preached peace, yet the battles you've fought!

Thee exist no more in the mortal form,

painful as it is, it's the world's norm.

I can only see you when I close my eyes -

like the phoenix in my conscience you rise -

I do not know now where you are -

my guide, my beacon, my polestar!

I've much to talk about, much to know -

showering of thee wisdom like falling snow.

Sir, I know we would one day surely meet -

thee palm on my head, with me at your feet.

PRASENJIT©2025

THE MOON'S JOURNEY

It seems though as if it were dreams -

the shimmering of moonlight on streams.

The creatures of the water can feel -

warmth of the light till their heart's fill.

Is it any fear that the darkness endure?

Nature flourishes in beauty, though obscure.

The moon sweeps away in its own quest -

while the chasing sun rise at an earliest.

Whispering clouds now full the air -

while the moon glided alone and bare.

Not to rest but just in the moment being -

night chases the day, clouds fleeing...

The aura of the night is a dreamy thing -

with gleam of first rays takes to wing.

The wind that is to fall upon the face -

will engulf the mind; vanish without a trace.

PRASENJIT©2025