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Monday, 29 October 2012

Exodus - by Sualeh Keen

I stood alone on the plain
Long after the dust cloud disappeared:
The last desperate effort
Of willing these times of trouble
To rewind back those wonderful moments
Wishing for the thousandth time
Had an angry god not butchered the air
The day a bullet gone astray
Shattered my fragile heart
To dust.

Nothing remains now.
Even the chalk-lines
Encircling the pools of blood
Have long back been washed away
By my tears.
Except maybe a heartful of memories
Of the happy and loving days
We had spent together;
Memories so sweet
I would have been happier

I have this recurring dream:
I walk alone
In deserted streets of a ghost town
While the Sun sinks
Behind a burning bridge.
A mist entrails the ruins
Like the plumes of smoke
Decorating a cremation ground…
And from these dreams
Sometimes I wake up
In the middle of the night
To the sound of my name
Whispered by someone somewhere
Only to find no one out there…
Or is it just my imagination?
Yes. It must have been
A part of the dream.

© 1994, Sualeh Keen
From the poetry collection Sickman with a Mirror, published in January 1996 by Navdin Prakashan Kendra. 

1 comment:

  1. i share your sorrows
    i am always with you
    no matter why some of my sons get misguided
    i have love for you all
    deep within my soul
    my mind and my body
    be blessed my son!
    when i am no more
    listen to your sisters and mothers galore!