Half-Ghazal

Bloody morning in the meadow is the echo of your name, Scarlet sunrise bears the rays which shriek the echo of your name, Dewy grass between my fingers ladybugs and ants adore, And they too caress my eardrums as the echo of your name. Nearby forests secrets hold which can not scare me anymore, For I hear no more the hauwls but the echo of your name. Winds refuse to bother me while I my cell phone ignore, So I wouldn't see your picture and the echo of your name. Solitude is not enough. Oh can I ever close the door, And hope that I will nevermore hear the echo of your name. Fresh is air upon my brows now in a way one can't abhor, Waking up the rocks and rivers from the echo of your name.