Tahira Parveen Poet Narrative

Notes About The Poem

The grave of the unspoken

The grave of the unspoken
The evil spirit sat on its chair,
Spewing a venom that poisoned the air.
Ready to spontaneously combust at any time.
The folk walked in silence, faces turned low,
or it swallow their light and teach them to grow,
Into the hatred that hollowed their chest,
A soul that could never find beauty or rest.

It only crept out in the dead of the night,
Searching to feast on any flicker of light;
It lived to attack, to wound, and to maim,
Until it was consumed by its own bitter flame.
It died in the trap of the darkness it made,
Now a prisoner now of a self-dug glade.
It haunts the graveyard, hungry and cold,
Seeking a spirit to break and to hold.
But there is a shield for the innocent soul:
To keep your heart steady, to keep yourself whole.
You may know one the same.
Never visit its grave, never speak of its name,
Just huff, cross yourself quickly and extinguish its claim.

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