Will there be a voice Crawling, behind all the echoes? Will there be one warm finger In the bunch of cold hands? Will there be a green leaf On the weary and naked tree? Will there be a battle Of fears against hope, Behind every mother's prayer? Will there be answers In plain sight down the road? Will there be masks That are better than the souls? Will there be a rainbow With seven distinct colours And no hesitation? There will be all; all of this; If you water your thoughts In the bright sun, And keep a story, that begins After the final full-stop.
~ Poems by Krishnasish Jana