Lust

In the damp dark night
the dead lusts for light,
he could but never did strive
at the time that found him alive,
for doing a little good work,
some good to leave his mark
leave a little happiness behind
but these never came to his mind.
He always thought it best
not to bother about the rest....
rest he has now found
some depth beneath the ground
lusting for a little light
but time is merciless, so is the night.

poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!