It’s been long
I walked not barefoot
On the withered winter
grass:
Dewy, unprized and
fringed.
It’s been long
I didn’t catch up with
a rain
Along the lonely
esplanade:
Unmowed, wild and
derailed.
It’s been long
I didn’t run
unshackled,
Piercing through the
feasting woods:
Wintered, unscathed and
autumned.
It’s been long
I didn’t smell of a
jasmine
Flowing in from a
faraway spring:
Blistered and distained
and abandoned.
It’s been long
I didn’t swim in a
summer flute
From the edge of a
monsoon fall:
Flooded, flustered and
fledged.
It’s been a long, long
time
I didn’t fly past the
abandoned graveyard
Of hopes and dreams and
despairs.
It’s been long
I didn’t plough the
unfurrowed lands
Of passions, pains and
desires.
It’s been such a long
time
I didn’t see my body
Once I left in a Moon
blanched night;
While watching the
death of Death
And a look; so blank
and blithe
On the trigger of an
eternal flight.
© Atique R.
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