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Ahsan Shiekh Mar 2016
Tick tock tick tock passing away
these invaluable moments don’t forever stay
Seconds become minutes and minutes hours
Man loses his treasure this fine way

Time is but an ephemeral possession
a blessing for some, curse for many
the harbringer of prosperity & that of regression
which causes agreement & often contention

Men measure what is an immeasurable entity
In months of days and years of months
Time passes away unrelenting
leaving the unwise anxious & regretting

The eternal stream flows on
its demeanor indifferent
moving & moving waiting for none
easily lost but never won

The men of sagacity use it to their benefit
the foolish keep on ranting not today but tomorrow
but what is today may not be tomorrow
it might bring fulfillment or just sorrow

Use your time wisely, waste it never
humans die but time lives forever
Ahsan Shiekh Mar 2016
Approaches sure and silent
Taking hold of the soul
for some its peace and for many violent
And it is ghastly

The body loses its vigor
its effect being immediate
being a sudden trigger
to the relinquishment of vitality

Men are born to die
Immortality is an unattained virtue
Life is a transitory period, sigh
the benefits of which we must pursue

It’s a strange thing, demise
a sort of an unwelcome guest
appearing as an unpleasant surprise
not understood by even the wise

People who live life in glory & fame
sometimes face its vengeance
which comes sudden & unexpected
while the half-dead continue their existence

Causing grief & pain
it picks out victims at random
all efforts at its prevention go in vain
it kills as it pleases

Death liberates
yet is undesirable
because it separates
from the world

It is felt but not seen
till those few moments
when mortal breathes his last breath
glimpsing at the pale face of death
Ahsan Shiekh Mar 2016
Creation of the Almighty which arrives crying

euphoric the man, the woman sighing

the solace which comes after what seems like years

shrieking, babbling; with great fears

away from its dark surroundings, in the world of light

Breathing, seeing, feeling; having eyesight

The innocent infant knows nothing

knows no good, no evil not a thing!

his life composes of eating, sleeping & screaming

mother’s lap is pure pleasure where he comes leaping

his mind is what can be said of soft clay

easily molded into anything in any way

This wonderful transition is wild

from an innocuous infant to a conscious child

who grows in intelligence and in stature

feeling his surroundings, interacting with nature

his wants and wishes are increasing

and craze of various things is unceasing

Yes, the child is growing

the water under his bridge is steadily flowing

fruit of upbringing is showing

Now a parent reaps what for years he is sowing

Childishness is almost extinct

in his mind now maturity sits

his expressions are clear and speech succinct

Sans innocence the man exists

Check out my other poems at ahsanshiekh22.wordpress.com

— The End —