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Syed Amaan Ahmad Poem
On a cold December night of the dying year,
A whisper flew and sat near my deaf ear;
I watched the indolent dance of her silhouette
On the threads of my fragmented retention’s net
I walked, up to her, with a lantern of sorrow--
The doors were shut, so were windows of the morrow;
Leaves of shadows circled around her feet,
Her hair sheltered the masks of forlorn street
Pebbles of the dusk’s grit swayed along the murk,
Whilst she tangled her hair and sank into the silent lurk;
Her lips on the wings of my prospect began to blink
As I held the lantern closer, and she began to sink
I tamed the time and borrowed a kiss from her mouth,
The wind froze the north of the east’s west, and the south---
I borrowed her kiss only to return when she would depart
By dancing indolently on the ruins of my haunted heart.
Copyright © Syed Amaan Ahmad | Year Posted 2013
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Details |
Syed Amaan Ahmad Poem
Sing me a lullaby of the dead morning
When stars fall for my final departure;
Sing me a lullaby of the dear mourning,
And let me sleep while you nurture
Dance on my death-bed like the evening,
Let the blossoms blow their fragrance,
Dance now to the music of their weeping,
And let me dream of your wondrous elegance
Kiss me then goodbye once more, just once
And let my lips taste your broken ice,
From frost's melting galleries, just once;
Let your lips kiss my shattered eyes
Take the blow onto your lashes wide,
And take me into your wildest tide;
Let the celebrations of my journey begin,
As I've let them cherish my drowning reign
Now, sing me a lullaby of the dying sun,
And let my head rest on your bosom;
In silence, let the waning moon kiss the sun;
And Stitch this memory in that blossom
Whilst I turn your dreams around in my sleep,
Take my hand and let me just sleep,
Let not the boats of tears on cheeks creep,
And let not those memories in minds weep
Sing me a lullaby of my final day,
Let me, for once, with you stay;
Let not the May touch my June,
Lock in your eyes, my final tune
Falling stars when surpass every chord,
Let your fingers slip on my face,
Alongside those stars in every chord,
And sprinkle some of your beaming grace
And Sing me a lullaby of the dead morning
When stars fall for my final departure;
Sing me a lullaby of the dear mourning,
And let me sleep while you nurture
Copyright © Syed Amaan Ahmad | Year Posted 2016
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