Goutam Roy

 At the Edge of First Light Beyond the fading day, the patient night breathes softly, waiting for its destined hour to keep its timeless covenant before yielding to the first eternal light. Though wearied by the long pilgrimage of years, the soul must press onward, fulfilling the purpose for which it was born, before the dawn unfolds. By Goutam Roy 

 Hollow Gaze In the moistened air, wet thoughts drift, while a dishevelled mind wanders through the blurred corridors of the past. A hollow gaze embraces the clouds across the sky. Leisure engulfs the entire being, rendering even the body utterly inert. A sorrowful strain of Beethoven echoes through the silent chambers of the soul. By Goutam Roy HoHolll

 Shadows of the Past Shadows of the past still haunt memory, lingering where forgotten footsteps fade along dust-laden roads. They lie exposed among wandering leaves, their colours slowly surrendering to the silence of time. Mind longs to rinse them clean, to cradle them within its secret chamber, safe from the erosion of years. Yet the heart's archive is a paradox of its own— it cannot hold them forever, nor can it bear to let them go. So they remain, half-buried in dust, half-alive in memory, returning with every quiet dusk to whisper the names of yesterday. By Goutam Roy 

 Touchstone It is time to return to the nest, after long hours of weary flight. The birds, exhausted, yearn for rest within the cool hush of gathering dusk. So too the tenacious mind seeks repose in a quiet haven, leaving behind the clamour of the world. It descends into its own unfathomed depths, where silence outlives every echo and the soul, at last, discovers its touchstone. By Goutam Roy 

 The Unfathomable Current Before time found its name, silence was already listening. Something unseen leaned toward that stillness, as though recalling a homeland never entered, yet never forgotten. The mind splinters into immensities— one universe giving birth to another, circles unfolding within unseen circles, each seeking to utter the unutterable. Forms awaken, glimmer, and dissolve— like hesitant light hovering between presence and absence. No boundary endures. No measure survives. Only a patient unveiling, veil after veil falling away from the changeless heart of existence. Beneath every beginning, beyond every ending, there remains neither void nor form— only the unfathomable current, moving without motion, the eternal force from which all things rise and return. By Goutam Roy 

 Before the Deluge A foreboding hush Blanketed the land. The cackle of unseen demons Drifted through the darkened air, While an owl's mournful cry Warned the timid rabbits To burrow deeper Into their hidden shelters. Soon enough, Relentless thunder Would rend the trembling earth With merciless wrath. Every living creature Wore the shadow of despair, Quivering beneath The weight of approaching doom. Perhaps it was The decree of fate— The silent prelude To a great cataclysm. By Goutam Roy 

 Clouds Bearing hidden sparks, the clouds drift wide, unfurling their immense wings. At times they whisper; at times they roar in fury, as though they ruled the waiting earth below. These winged bearers of rain carry the promise of fresh roots and newborn green. The children of clay overflow with joy, like silver fish leaping through flooded rivers. Dream-weavers lift their souls, dancing beneath the cascading torrents of rain. Above, the cloud-filled sky composes countless images, painting rainbow metaphors across its vast canvas— a poem written in light, water, and wind. By Goutam Roy 

 Where Light Becomes Song From the dream-laden chamber of the eternal Composer, endless melodies unfold— rivers of colour and sound rising from the deepest wells of the mind. They carry a healing elixir, flowing through unnumbered hearts, calling gentle showers to weary souls. Within each trembling note a sacred radiance awakens, so luminous that even the composer stands dazzled before it. And every listening ear receives that quiet splendour like a timeless benediction, where music becomes light, and light becomes song. By Goutam Roy 

 Endless Pilgrimage The road has stretched onward since time beyond memory; no one knows when the first footstep fell. No one can tell where the path was born, or where its far horizon finally disappears. It winds through the boundless unknown, as though eternity itself were its silent companion. None can explain the purpose of this journey; yet every soul is called to walk it— step by step, along the endless path. By Goutam Roy 

 Before the Dawn Beyond the fading day, the long night whispers, awaiting its appointed hour to fulfill its ancient trust before awakening the eternal light. Though weary from the endless journey, the soul must still complete the work it was born to do. By Goutam Roy 

 C  -Commitment to show new horizons.  U- Unfurling the truth . L-lofty   road is ahead . T-Transcends the stuffed thinking . U:-Unfurl the wings of conscience  R- Restores the inner strength of mind. E- Enlightens the hearts of men. By Goutam Roy 

 Echoes in the Clay Let the dead sleep. If disturbed, a thousand broken dreams will rise to tear away the veil, exposing the grim design— a script written solely for slaughter, born from minds sick with paranoia and poisoned by relentless doubt. These are the hollow triumphs cherished by brutal hearts. Let the dead sleep. Leave them to their heavy rest, where they might finally outrun the pain, the memory of bullet wounds, and the crushing weight they bore across the living earth. Do not exhume the earth. Do not dig to mock the quiet dust, or to lay bare the fragile faiths they once guarded so fiercely, deep within their chests. By Goutam Roy 

 Dried Shells The dried river searches for water. Empty snail shells, small fish skeletons, and tiny gravels lie scattered on the sand— no trace of rain. Cattle graze along the river's edge, while crows enjoy their restless ride upon their backs. Cowboys perch on the branches of trees, whistling into the wind, their notes drifting through the silent air, bearing the weight of their unspoken plight. Their fate, too, is like the dried shells of snails, scattered across the barren riverbed. By Goutam Roy 

 The Living Ember The living ember within the human heart was kindled in immemorial time to speak the truth— the bitter nectar of reality. The brave do not fear to question society's wrongs. They do not fear to drink the hemlock, lifting truth aloft, shattering the rock— the rock of injustice. Yet the waters have flowed on, while the tightening noose has endured through the ages. The freedom to speak, and the safety of the innocent, remain essential to uproot discrimination in all its forms, and let justice take root. By Goutam Roy 

 Pilgrimage Beyond Time In the endless pilgrimage of souls, serenity, distant as mountains and the sea, is ceaselessly sought from the earth where every life is rooted. Age after age, souls are renewed and purified, as waterfalls pour from ancient rocks— unveiled, eternal. The mind blossoms, bearing golden fruits of spirituality upon the trees of wisdom, until it discovers the radiant halo of transcendence. With a supple, meditative mind, the soul ascends like the sylphlike figure of a woman— light as prayer, graceful as silence. By  Goutam Roy 

 Ghost of Caesar "Why did you betray me, Brutus?" whispered the ghost of Caesar. "Do your daggers still seek the hearts of those who dare to serve? You struck me down before the very people for whom I spent my breath, my strength, my life. I filled their empty hands, yet you thirsted for a throne built on blood. Even now, I hear the rustle of hidden daggers beneath robes of friendship, while truth walks barefoot over shards of broken vows. Tell me— do you still weave your webs of conspiracy against every Caesar who rises for the common good? How many dreams must bleed into the dust before ambition learns the weight of a human soul? O God, guard this wounded land from every Brutus who smiles before he strikes, and crowns betrayal with the mask of virtue. By  Goutam Roy 

 Let Me Love You O God, let me love You  until the thirst of this unsated heart  is quenched. Grant me the grace  to feel truly alive  as I bow at Your feet. Lead me into a love  that endures through endless ages, where there is no more birth,  no more death— only You. By Goutam Roy 

  Stray Leaves A dishevelled breeze scatters stray leaves; discreet thoughts, too, lie upon the surface of an inert mind. Grey doves skip across the ground, searching for insects to sustain them. The blurred noon stands motionless, like an imprisoned soul, benumbed by an unfulfilled past. Today turns grey, like a bird separated from its flock. Unruly fate has toppled the inner calling of life— like stray leaves fallen from their trees. Everything seems inert  In this faded noon.  By Goutam Roy 

 Introduction:- Nectarine Beauty is a lyrical free-verse poem that celebrates the harmony between the monsoon landscape and the human soul. Through vivid natural imagery, it portrays rain as an elixir that refreshes both the earth and the inner self. Nectarine Beauty  Disquiet air, a cloudy sky, and moisture reigning gleefully with the piety of the monsoon. The unbridled mind witnesses a graceful play unfolding across the verdant land. The dark forest kisses the clouds, and they return the embrace as rain, soaking every corner of the earth. The mind, too, is drenched in their elixir of love and enters a flowery paradise to quench its thirst for nectarine beauty. By Goutam Roy 

  Whispers of the Restless Breeze A restless breeze wanders through the chambers of the mind, loosening the knots of silence left behind. In a realm woven of breath, where wandering thoughts take flight, it circles unseen between shadow and light, until stillness returns like dawn after a sleepless night. By Goutam Roy 

  Let the Dead Rest Let the dead rest either Countless unfinished dreams will rise and unveil the plot behind the play— a script written only for murder, conceived by minds plagued with paranoia and poisoned by skepticism, vices too often embraced by brutish hearts. Let the dead rest and Let them lie in deep sleep, finding at last respite from pain, the scars of bullets, and the burdens they carried through life. Don't dig the graves to expose the hollowness of the creed they once held close within their hearts. By Goutam Roy 

  Before the Silent Abyss If we listen to the song of seasons—  nature's timeless wisdom  woven into silent science—  our brief keepers of days  may find their hearts at peace,  their thirst gently quenched  by quiet contentment. Then the jewel of the cosmos  will shimmer with delight,  clothing tender blossoms  and fragile petals  with a fleeting radiance,  as though eternity smiled—  before the silent abyss  opened beyond the horizon. By Goutam Roy 

  Kindness Kindle piety in the heart. Inspire others with trust. Nurture nobility within yourself. Delight others through kindness and help. Navigate the nectar of the divine. Enrich others, helping them shine. Serenity will enrapture the core. Sublimity will help you to soar. By Goutam Roy 

  Too Hard Too hard to bear the pain— the pain of the cold of an unpaid night, age after age, while their halls of a hundred doors are dazzled by fluorescent lights. Too hard to carry this existence, where hope grows faint beneath the burden of another dawn. Yet somewhere a stubborn flame refuses to die, keeping alive the dream of a morning when no child will fear the night, no weary soul will be denied the warmth of home, and every door will open not to privilege, but to compassion, where human hearts shine brighter than lights. By Goutam Roy 

 Sandstorms The storm in the desert fusillades the sands across the arid land, shaping the desert through age after age, isolating every trace of green. The camels shield themselves with long eyelashes and hairy ears, guarding their eyes and ears against the stinging sand. But those caught in the storm's trap are often forced to surrender their lives to its merciless fury. The sandstorm rages on, unceasing through the ages. Some endure through resilience and wisdom, while others perish in its unseen snare, across this parched world. By Goutam Roy 

 Soccer The twenty-two stand in stern resolve, their single aim— to drive the round orb into the net raised upon four posts. Crores of souls watch with clenched jaws, caught between hope and agony, yearning for the orb of laurels that grants a place in the pages of eternity. The exposition of skill and craft goes on relentlessly. By Goutam Roy 

  Rain The rain looks wan, Losing its radiance. It seems weary, Repeating its endless Cycle of coming And returning to its abode Since the primordial ages. Indifferent, the rain watches How long the tales Of joy and woe Will linger Among living beings. Yet, by its own will, It carries out its duties, As pious souls Serve all creation. By Goutam Roy