The Mansion (A Poem)

Like clouds of fancy on Time’s canvass hangs
A solitary shape in ivy’s firm embrace.
Draped in a veil of dull green stands
As bricks and plasters fall off its face,
A spectral figure in a desolate land.
 
Centuries like the shifting climes have passed,
The voices, the faces, the pomp, the glory,
All into the great void journeyed at last.
Leaving this relic of bricks and many a story
For a bard’s pen, before turning to dust.
 

Decay and death touches all unhindered,
Footprints remain, when the essence is gone.
“Where are they?”, in my heart,I wonder,
The world revolves and pages turn.
“Is this moment,Real?”, I ponder
Seeing altered beauty, all faded and worn.

Published by brihaad

A dreamer, a thinker, an observer with a pen who prefers the solitary path to the bustle of life.

One thought on “The Mansion (A Poem)

  1. About……..

    A relic from the past in Kolkata(TheCity of Joy).Dating back to the precolonial times, this once majestic mansion was built by a local Zaminar in early 1740s. This was decades earlier than the infamous Battle of Plassey in 1757 that saw the dawn of British Colonialism. With the passage of time this house became the cynosure of socialite evenings. Many great luminaries of the Bengali renaissance like Raja Rammohan, Prince Dwarkanath Tagore,Swami Vivekananda to the Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore from different time periods and era graced this now neglected and derelict mansion, abandoned to despair.

    Liked by 2 people

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