By Swastik Shekhar Sarkar
I live here, a misfortune,
In a world that's rather online;
For I crave to hold you close again,
Kiss your forehead, and name you mine.
A symphony I cling to,
In a world of notifications and noise;
I remember the anklets on your feet,
To whose chime does my heart rejoice.
Oh! The lost beauty of longing,
In a world of "sent" and "seen";
For you feel like a hand-written letter,
I can wait for which, through lives fifteen.
I recall the aroma of your hair,
As I try to dress my best;
It's fourteenth of February,
I hear your anklets;
Our wait can finally rest.
By Swastik Shekhar Sarkar
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