Message
Here's a message, hope it gets to you,
From a frail soul; worn out and blue.
Can’t sleep as it is as hard to breath,
Eyes were as though to flood the earth.
Not the body nor the mind belongs to me,
You called, and thereupon they desert me.
The heart’s forgotten the taste of peace,
Nor can the spirit tell how the sky smells.
Dreary was the idea of you and I,
Pitiful I live on such oversized lie.
Were it I could at all make one plea,
I would request you just set me free.
These nett feelings have cut me deep.
I’ll fold each, neatly, and keep ‘em safe.
©2019 – Muhammad Al-Ghazali
Nov 1, 2019
Nov 1, 2019 at 7:05 AM UTC
Message
Here's a message, hope it gets to you,
From a frail soul; worn out and blue.
Can’t sleep as it is as hard to breath,
Eyes were as though to flood the earth.
Not the body nor the mind belongs to me,
You called, and thereupon they desert me.
The heart’s forgotten the taste of peace,
Nor can the spirit tell how the sky smells.
Dreary was the idea of you and I,
Pitiful I live on such oversized lie.
Were it I could at all make one plea,
I would request you just set me free.
These nett feelings have cut me deep.
I’ll fold each, neatly, and keep ‘em safe.
©2019 – Muhammad Al-Ghazali
Request permission to use this poem