REMORSE

Behind the dilapidated doors
Of his abandoned chest,
An aged poet discovered
The reed of his dead beloved.
His clumsy fingers hesitantly grabbed
The calloused waist of the reed
To attempt his rusted competence
Under the light of regretting moon.
As the sharp tip of the reed touched
The crumbled papers of poet's dairy
The wishes of the poet vanished
And he only could sketch some oozing scars.
His Grief was dangling from every word
And every sentence was an untold story
That the poet had been assembling
In the rebellious corners of his aggrieved heart.
The poet wrote:
"The time since your demise has been cruel,
It has plundered this old man's every smile.
The sunken lines of my fate rendered barren,
And my only crutch broken beyond repair."
How could the dreary mourner of love,
Cease to shed a perennial stream of tears
How could her reflection not haunt his isolation
How could he escape those lashes on his soul..!!!

© Badee Uz Zaman