The fairy tales are cowed
when fallen from the crowd
mucked upon the milieu of hunger
as if their gods are deaf and deaden either.
The patterns of living flicking down deep
Seem to have gone to the dust distorted
A dismal moment as I peeved back
Deflecting Into their bitten tones
Still a violence against the time dishonored
Reasoned and resourced yet dismayed
The fossils in its dead grave flinting the fire
As if quietly meditating and submerged
As they have never been quivered as before
the time fallen from the crowd yet unscathed
ridden by the rain as demurred beyond the vale
As if the fairy tale of raved up undertones
heard in nursery days yet unraveled
bleating and rasping within out of aspiration
dislodged unassumingly in totality
Dr subhendu kar
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fairy-tales-6/
