Best Poem of Pijush Biswas

I Lost A Dream Within A Dream
It might be a pretty gift I won
The wrath of storm might seek itself a mind
A petty grace might be a beauty itself alone
The storm might be more temperate and kind.
I alone in the sun stood to obtain
Breath in free air, but all in vain.

More to see the sun peep through cloud
Or the . . .
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Prashno [question]
God, thou hast sent messengers again and again
in age to ages
to the pitiless world- -
They, went saying 'Forgive all', went saying 'Love-
Kill the envious poison inside'.
They are honourable, they are memorable, yet
today, this bad day I have sent back them in unconquered salutation
at out-door.

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