The Unwritten Chronicles Of A Broken Time Poem by Faruk Ahmed Roni

The river always awakens within me a water festivals
Once, you said:
'If there is a bridge across this river,
we'd walk together and paint our lives in festival hues.'

So, tying together the ribs of my chest
I built a bridge for you,
My bones creaked beneath your steps.
But no festival came to water's edge
Only waves rose to shatter the riverbanks.
We were restless hearts, forever wandering.
Treading narrow paths like the parting of hair,
Both sides are the thorns of life.
Through dusks and noons, we clasped dreams tight,
Crossing fragile bridges over a perilous time.

One winter full moon, you said,
'Wish I become a star, radiant across the sky, '
And so you did.
I lent light and glow rays throughout you,
Yet, I still gather faith from the darkness of new moon.

You spoke of climbing mountains,
To float amidst clouds spun of dreams.
I bent my spine into steps for you,
Arched like the back of a camel.
Swiftly, you ascended step by step.
Your navel now cradles an ocean.
I have yet to straighten my broken frame.
Time now crawls through my chest
Like venomous serpents,
each moment, a struggle to breathe.

We dreamt then, as beggars dream of grain
A glimmer of unspoiled hope,
Warm embraces adrift on lotus leaves.
Through weary days,
Indifferent to all but fleeting reveries,
We roamed cities drunk with fevered passion.
But today, the city in my heart is a battlefield,
Troy's siege, Kurukshetra's agony,
Rivers of blood burned through my veins.

And yet, I walk alone down broken paths for you.
You've claimed the moon, the stars, a home in the heavens.
I am left to swim in the floodwaters of endless rain.
Your sacrifices have blossomed into bounty
Fields of dreams harvested in triumph.
You've become the farmer of all your desires.

But I am still here,
A silhouette against the dim glow of apathy,
Surviving on the bitterness of breath,
dragging hours soaked in anguish.
I am a portrait of ruin,
A lost soul caught in the ache of broken time