Contributor: MH.Emon

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Dickinson knew
The true fruit
And she knew
The remedy

She knew gift
And its branches
All WH she solved
With best

Milton got
The way without
The touch of light
He reared that well

Colors of the day
We drink up to brain
At night in bed
Clean the glass for tomorrow

He who tasted happy
Must have to taste bad
And it’s true
Like the sun of tomorrow
.............................................
And Elysian is her slave
Her skin has Abendrot
The gateway to lost
Guarded by winged and bowlines

Her accent has
The tune of
The lyre of
Israfil

And she has
A pair of eyes full
Of ocean hue
So well arranged

The architecture of she
Has a high pulse bliss
Coated with all glory
No more of this story

But nature knows
The beauty only of the fruit
It’s the truth, It’s the light
Mother spills so well

But the queen doesn’t know
The light and the fruit
Drowning in and keep filling up the glass
In the end, useless tears remain.


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I'm MH Emon, 23 years old, an avant-garde poet and I'm from Bangladesh. I've completed my graduation in English Literature. I got published in several online journals. Currently, working on my first poetry book.