Anonymous Spirit (by Shinjana Das)

I stare at the burnt soul
And try to feel it intensely,
I can see the shabby ashes,as well as
The Phoenix ; lying devastatingly.

Oh ! It can't rise again,
Because,it can't fly so high !
As, it holds another view,
Where,flying is worse than to die.

It belongs to winter,
And summer is far away from it,
O bird ! how stubborn you are !
You fixed your heart to commit.

"Don;t call yourself a Phoenix,
If you don't arise again..."
-But you admit even this insult,
As you don't want to gain.

You believed that you're tired of being Keats's bird,
As well as Shelley's...
And now you want to live or die for yourself only,
Oh ! you are so selfish !!

You think you are different,
And you believe,you're still not 'known',
So,that your shrill voice doesn't utter 'Chorus Hymeneal' or 'triumphant chant',
But just wants to mourn.

Don't know,if you're gone forever,
Or, you're still alive
But be sure that,
Your burnt soul cannot again thrive

Be unnamed,
Or, be unknown,
But don't follow the way,
Which was 'wrongly shown'.