Dark Shadow
Cleaving to all its bustle and ado,
What trails behind is one’s own dark shadow.
O man, choke not with truth buried below,
Its fingers point to your vainest ego.
He’s no man that mutely accepts his fate
Resigns to whatso fate, whatso morrow,
A sheep in flock he’s no better to know,
In cool ash of ignorance to wallow,
A man is he defeated but by him—
O fight thy pretender, beat him hollow.
______________________________________
Ghazal |04.11.2021|
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