Introduction to the Poet:

Praveen Kumar, holds MA, M.Phil., B.Ed., TESOL (USA), (Ph.D). He has been a teaching for 13 years in India and abroad. He has published many articles in national and international journals. His areas of areas of expertise are Literature, Humanism, Philosophy, Psychology, Media English, and Teaching of English as a Second Language as well as Foreign Language.

Unto This Lost

The whooping fate that bounds confine

To withhold anguish round the isle,

Dry, futile, barren heart where no heaven smile,

Fraught with terror and pain on the lives repine;

While fiery soul breaks brow,

Misfortune hits disaster on life that decline

In the heavy heart of unknown despair I know

Such pain, crying tears whine;

And, if I were a leaf lift me away

Into the discarded river unto sail,

Then shrinking time no time to fail,

That’s the lost scope in such blind hope!

When tears from the tomb to gloom,

Life ablaze turns withering not to bloom.

Withered Dream

When agony and pain set my soul free,

Give me the fancy of my life to see!

That’s solitude! Splendid sweltering summer,

Breaks apart the rays of brighten bummer.

I ran forward, perhaps heaven can slave,

To move in depth passion to lead the grave.

Still I see no flowers where just thorns appear,

Unable to behold unfathomed teary blear.

No light but that of gloomy wind blow,

And sure some story of despair blind woe.

Life is a shadow cast from parting rays

Runs into the long grass that hides my heart ablaze

Yet shall the late goodbye come in dreams,

Turning wretched pain run away in stream.