While quietness of solitude conquers me,
A lost yearning,
Tweaks a string of violin at my ears;
Yearning to hear your voice.
...
Alone, I must stand.
Please, don’t ask to hold my hand.
Understand?
This is the end,
...
Star looked from sky at fish on beach.
Light fell on sand, and made a screech,
“A cruel wave has signed her dead.
Why did she leave a safe sea bed?
...
Dreams.
Every time, when I look at the window,
Across the stretched curtains of solitude,
Your face gleams.
...
I love my Creator,
But I hate Hell.
It makes me scared of Him.
“Isn’t it against His mercies? ”,
...
My soul mate!
Don’t ask about my (deflowered) dreams;
My false, hollow and coward dreams.
...
Her room was like a library,
I found her among the books.
Big glasses, bungled dress and hairs,
Philosopher by her looks.
...
She asked, “Hey, do you love me? ”
I wished, but spoke a lie.
I turned, “It’s just a friendship.”
But my heart had a cry.
...
Your Voice! I Know, Is Not For My Ears
While quietness of solitude conquers me,
A lost yearning,
Tweaks a string of violin at my ears;
Yearning to hear your voice.
Yearning to earn rejoice.
Yearning, which makes my heart burning,
Burning like a flame.
Memories pass through my eyes,
Tears by tears,
Moment by moment,
Frame by frame.
While quietness of solitude conquers me,
Silence cries,
Echoes your name.
And it feels,
Like,
I have lost my way in thick forest of voices.
(A thick forest of voices,
in which there is not even a single tree,
having words of tenderness, embedded on its stem, for me)
All around me is a carnival of thousands of tones.
Mute them.
These are hitting my eardrum like stones.
While quietness of solitude conquers me,
I wish only to hear you.
(And no one else)
But your voice,
Ah! I know, is not for my ears.
Still the violin, grief-stricken on your silence is mine.
And I have no other choice,
But to compose a rendition.
-
nayyar.afaq@gmail.com
My poems.