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Kolkata, West Bengal, India
The Wounded Healer...

The Empty-Idle Chair

I'm sitting on an idle chair.
The heart's wandering I know not where,
Searching, seeking to share and confide,
While the world's all asleep outside.
The moon shies away behind a cloud,
As Heart calls upon't to hear its sound;
The stars are busy twinkling numerous times,
So is the breeze, blowing the wind-chimes.
The idle chair now seems to move.
It turns and turns itself to prove,
How painful it is to stay so still,
The void within, it yearns to fulfil.
It throws me down unable to bear;
Heart scatters in pieces round the empty, idle chair.

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