The Deserted Moon by Subhas Chandra Chakra

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As she is a widow,
She is the deserted moon,
She is like the setting Sun
In the afternoon..
A few moments left
To scatter away
The remaining brightness
Of her womanhood..
Into the valley of darkness,
Into the Zone of nothingness
Into the arenawhere
Dreams seldom kiss the eyes
Into the arena where
Rains of desire
Seldom fills the heart,
Into the arena where
Rainbows of hope
Seldom crown the cloud.
Except for theDeath
Everyonehugs her
Likehailstones from above.

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