When Moonlight wens upon the moore
And Starlight knocks upon your door.
When thrums the hum of Faerie Wings
And the Harpen sound of Elfen strings.
Accompanied by dark Dwarven drums
The music of the night doth come.

A Shaman tends with Force of Night
A Silver Sword of fierce Light.
The wounds flow. The battle bounds
Thunder of Hooves upon the ground.
Tirelessly on the battles fight
But fades away in Mornings light.

And now that morning light is near
I arise from sleep with vision clear.
And the webs of tiredness
Fall from my eyes.
My new day begins
Under the skies…...JMF 11/9/14

The Hit of Window Pane
Colors trip within my Brain.....

Life would be so better
If it wasn't imbued with Antipathy
Some moments I awake
Not even knowing why
Full of Self Doubting Apathy
It may as well be Antipathy

Days move past me
Like products on an assembly line
Each one in its time
Here and gone in the blink of an eye
Not even knowing why

Its easy to see
Life flows around me,
But not through me.
As though I am cast in paler light
And seem to all removed from sight
Not even knowing why

Graven upon the Stone
It will say with antipathy
Here I lie, not even knowing why

I don't live in
a black and white world,
but there are days in which
my pallette is ******* up.

Love and passion
are no longer red,
but hues of grey
fill my soul.

Blues are no longer
beautiful,
but are muted versions
of angry self-loathing.

Nature is not reflected
in pastels,
but my mirror is broken,
for no light exists
in the shadow it creates.

If I truly cared to believe
that the grass is greener,
I could learn to look past
all the melancholic colors.

///
Look! My friend
It is true that
my existence will be graved after death-
you forget me,
as speed squander particle existence--
earth could not remember--
either it will be deformed
or dissolved---

Memory decays as rolling stone-
forget and fade
twinkle childhood,
as daffodils wither at evening---

Today's child
the father of tomorrow
Aye reminisces the past and decide the future,
today's peppy stream with its chime,
tomorrow's buried river-
only articulate history

Civilization, culture and fashion,
those are transfigured by time-
I see, truth has grown as a lie
as the sun rises in the west,
men have made the conversion to lie-
as politics become poly tricks-

Igneous to metamorphic rock,
by the process of nature with time-
the ultimate truth

From summer to winter,
winter to spring -
pouring--
Sweet sweat-
snowflakes-
cuckoo sings
season changeover and being--

But aftermath
my friend,
two things are still ******,
untouched,
my love--
my soul--
the power of God----
///
@Musfiq us shaleheen