An evocative poem about the loss of love, by Rajashree, exclusively for Different Truths.
Drunken night was weeping in pain, Murky sky was whispering rain Stars had lost their track to heaven Every throb of pain was gathering in silence The door was open, and you came… You looked at my face, I was torn into shreds, and disappeared into immeasurable depths. Now wind moans in the dale Tear-stained cheeks of dawn looks pale, It was just a dream, I console myself. You say, ‘Dreams have their own ways, Sometimes fill our palms with golden sand, If dreams die, life becomes a broken winged bird.’
Rajashree Mohapatra, born in Odisha, has received her master’s degree in ‘History’, and ‘Journalism and Mass Communications’ from Utkal University. She is a teacher by profession. Being a postgraduate in ‘Environmental Education and Industrial Waste Management’ from Sambalpur University, she has devoted herself as a social activist to the cause of social justice, environmental issues, and human rights in remote areas through non-governmental organisations. Poetry, painting, and journalism are her passions.





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Really dreams and life are synonymous. No dreams, no life as dreams give momentum to life and also to all other dreams which follow.