Your Portrait
You have sent me your elegant portrait
Saying it will fill the void in my life
Not realizing that it will further frustrate
And cut my heart like a blade of knife
I tried to talk to it, it wouldn’t answer
I tried to kiss it; its lips were cold like ice
Ignoring my frailty and heart’s seeded cancer
Its locks unfurl nor roses of cheeks entice
Your colors it wears nor ravishing perfume
It neither cheers nor languishing heart console
My love! Was it so difficult to presume!
An image only wasn’t my craving’s goal
Can an image respond to an earnest embrace?
Can it feel ones fondness, ones caress
My kisses don’t change the color of face
On my chest it doesn’t spread its tress
Its eager fingers do not comb my hair
It doesn’t seek the coziness of my arms
It comforts my anguish nor my despair
It doesn’t heal my afflictions; it only harms
I am craving for you, my love, not an image
Bird of life may seek freedom from body’s cage
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