You Alone

Essence sieved out of innumerable names bestowed on you.
                    a unique pronoun
Your love harbors grace of music, pictures.
                    glory and brilliance of truth
Without you, no noun, no pronoun
                    not even adjective exists,
Only all pervasive omnivorous undecaying void
                    frustration on the inside,
                    war and violance.
One day, while in war in great fortitude
                    I intensely prayed for you
Even from extreme suffering and horror of death
                    You flowered
And in that hour of prayer and manifestation
My total existence transformed itself
                    into each of the fleeting bullets
Whistling swiftly
                    The fiery arrow hitting its mark
And with the heart-strewn blood I composed
Enkindled pictures
                    Your manifold semblances.

Today no longer can I see you together
But this disjointed self, I don't know how
I have dispensed into you
                    In the curvature of the brows,
                    arrogance of the neck
In the flow of arms, moderate swing of the shank
In the lion-cloth end
                    lying by your feet
In nails gracing magnolia fingers colored
                    in blooming crimson glow
In engrossed lips
                    in coyly brought down eyes
Are you my exclusive, my enchanted,
                    and my auspiciously turbulent Bengali woman,
The tremendous madness of my aggrieved heart,
my unlimited being, my intellect, and my fancy?