The Last Hope Poem by Puskar Sikdar

Gazing with rare eyes,
As the sun sets,
A rush fills my mind—
Let's move toward the final hope, no regrets.

Endlessly, I swallowed memories of sorrow,
Yet now, I wish to light a new tomorrow,
To cast away the aching past,
And let a fresh glow within me last.

The last train is on its way,
Yet hasn't reached on time today.
Here I remain, lost in my own dawn,
In an awakening that lingers on.

In this life, I stand alone,
With despair that cuts to the bone.
Through my glasses, I watch the horizon fade,
In my heart, joy seems to evade.

I begged time and again,
For one last hope to ease my pain.
Else, this life will turn to dust,
So, I reach out with hands I trust.

Nature's breeze dries my sweat,
No light of hope can I forget.
In the hustle of the city, I lose myself,
Yet, the frames of memories still rest on the shelf.

I've bound myself to dreams so bright,
Where the night train stands dressed in bridal white.
A new hope in this hopeless life,
Dives into work, avoiding strife.

The last hope still burns in the winter's fire,
The cuckoo calls, its song rising higher.
See, the train glows with a mystical grace,
In the veil of dusk, it finds its place.