Chorus

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Chorus

A Sonnet

Courtesy Priti Ghosh

A many-armed assailant and bitter foe, 
Foisted on me a relentless woe.
Dire was the night and direr the day,
My being was in stupor and hidden the way.

In and around were forces vile and formidable, 
Exploiting every leeway for their aim unbearable. 
Their designs were many, the aim but one,
By my single ruin their goal to be won.

In this Night I ventured seemingly alone,
My being was single wail in time frozen.
And then She came, as force in bursts
And wiped clean my shadows and ruins.

I speak again, an ability She has lent anew,
All being in chorus sings, “To Thee, O Mother, may we ever stay true”