The white misty layer
Sprang up out of nowhere
Just after the twilight
In an early winter night.
The Moon was on its ninth,
Picking up the pace
To be in full bloom,
Amidst the shuttered rays of light.
I was all alone in a foggy lawn
Watching carelessly
The shy drops of Moon,
When I met her eyes
In a sudden sweep of rain
On a derailed monsoon...
She was drifting in like a bunch
Of light white foamy clouds
With a sweet autumn breeze;
And I got stuck by like a magical spell
To see my fall in a pair of blue eyes
Floating past my heart ringing a bell.
I used to write sometimes
On borrowed emotions
From the poems I seek to find
How it’s like the poetic passions.
Now, with all the maddening feelings
Brimming out of my mind
I kept looking at the blank page
Staring back at me with the blue
I got enchanted by in that fairy wind.
I loved to weave dreams
With winters fluting the summer rains;
Bridging morning dews
With the lonely nocturnal pains.
And all on a sudden
I found myself in the layers
Of dreams in search of the eyes
I lost my soul winging in.
At the edge of one winter
There will be no sign of
The long-forgotten spring.
The trail of fallen leaves
Will get drier and heavier
With no trace of greening…
All the tales of the world
Will come to an end,
With all the colors fading out
In a devouring bend…
And there will be just dreams
Over the ashen blue sky,
Floating like bubbles
In the colorless layers of streams…
And there will be an unfinished poem
Riding with a pair of blue eyes
In one of those dreams;
The eyes with a straight look
Swinging between a nonchalant smile
And a mystery of the Forgotten Isle;
And a poem in a mess of failed words
To paint a passion so deep
In my empty manuscript…
© Atique R.
