PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

When the music of the day joins the setting sun,

A forlorn soul goes back in time,

When the breeze of eve greets the buds,

A forlorn soul goes back in time.

How many more Springs will I have to wait,

How many more nights at Summer's gate,

How many more noons of the Fall,

How many promises by my snow-white mate?

How many more prostrations do You require,

For how long should You and I conspire,

How many dawns will I have to see,

Before You decide on what should transpire.

All creation worships You all the time,

This is what You say in Quranic rhyme,

What for are Your Commandments here,

When all has been created as a pastime!

I know not O God the end of all this,

Caring a hoot could, in fact, be my bliss.