After a season of dry despair

When you surrender to the call

And devour all effort to resist

To stay and to persist;

You shut the curtains and your door

You hold the hour in a fist

And scatter your time on your floor…

Puzzles of your tangled existence

Of childhood follies and laughter- disperse

In the corners of your mind and in its core;

You shovel the words of lonely destitution

To conquer the intricate scheme of fatalism…

The skirmish echo resounds its fright

Engulfing the pieces of a decomposed light

Your eyes have not met before…

And you sigh…

The urge to cry summons the new dawn,

You dispose the scene and reopen the door

You tear the curtains, rip your time apart

Your pieces mingle with the light

A generous flood

Of thundering bolts and scolding rays

Of regret and longing

Of pain and empathy with-

The lonesome traveler in his misty road

The child deprived of a love to share

The father turned grey and old

Awaiting a glance of care…

In the rusty eye the wound cuts deep

 

The eye dwelling in the afar

Can never go to sleep…

 

Angelique Fallah

Saturday, November 12, 2011