 
        
            A POET IS THE MELODY OF A BROKEN LYRE ~BY UJJAL MANDAL
When the broken lyre can’t hold music,
Poet is there being the muse of a melody.
When winter makes all drowsy and numb,
Poet is there holding the spring flowers.
Poet becomes a nightingale voice. 

 
                         
                         
                         
                         
                         
                         
         
         
         
         
         
         
         
        