|
| |
Muted Song
His lips parted,
but the notes clung,
threaded in silence
by invisible keys.
The song stayed,
in a nest of aches,
where wishes fluttered
without hope of flight.
He hummed,
but no one heard
the melody curled
beneath spoken noise.
They praised
his calm, his quiet,
and manly things
he always played.
Never knowing
his timely hush
was a wretched note
never sung aloud.
He nodded,
clapped in soft time,
while his ribs beat
a slow mourning tune.
Some songs bloom
like flowers aloud,
but his grew in pain,
rooted deep in hush.
Still it throbbed,
a muted plea—
just once, a tune
to be heard and freed.
Copyright ©
Salma Malik
|
|