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Jul 2020
The moon is tormenting me tonight
It’s not that it’s new, full or crescent-shaped
or that its glimmer is enticing me with its beguiling grace
messing with my mind and unsettling my soul
It’s the reminder of our alienation
the line that I drew in the sand
and that you chalked on the pavement
that burst the bond we thought was impermeable
and made us drink from a shattered cup
How could such wholeness have become so severed?
We needed no words to reveal our emotions
No colours to portray our dreams
Now even volumes can’t mend the wounds
And colours have faded to the greyness of grief
I am not afraid of being alone
It’s your solitude that plagues me
It’s your suffering that is breeding mine
Your despair is piercing every cell of my being
Your tears are so harrowing that I have none left to shed
I can only cry into the pool of agony that has been bored into my heart
What was has been and can be no more
We were on the verge of mutual annihilation
And pleas to God could not have saved us
For we, not God, were makers of our fate
We’ll reenact this again in lives to come
As we’ve done so often in those gone by
The cycle is vicious and will only end
When the sand in our hourglass has run out
And found its way back to the sea of eternity
Written by
William Bratton
51
   Imran Islam
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