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The Frozen Passion
Each morning, The frozen dew drop
To be fallen at your feet
To feel the fragrance
Of your cool and dying passion
That
Only that
With a flame of ice
Could enlighten the stubborn heart
Each morning,
A herd of memories
Should fly like the wave of the sea
To whisper in to your ears
Those words
This could burn your concealing instincts
Each morning,
To reset it,
And to beset the heart in a fertile land
Each morning,
A shower of frozen wind
Should climb up to your lips
To seek me silently
For feeling the passion of aching joy
poem
by
Md. Joynal Abedin
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