A Sonnet

Priti Ghosh

A common dawn, a sole paltry sun
Heralds the day of our daily run,
A half-lit mind by will does compel
The slothful physical and wayward vital.

From debris of sub-conscient’s dream 
We hobble to goal afar, that distant gleam.
The vast spaces within are all ruin
Of desires slain and their dying din.

Through this all I hear a common strain
An aim divine sounding through every vein.
The old song forgotten, I learn anew language
This constant labour a new future does presage.

Now we spar with dire fates and dim destiny
For the Dawn that heralds our Mother’s Day.