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LINES WRITTEN ON A SEPTEMBER MORN'
Afternoon sun,
Is bleak and sluggish,
As deserted roads are still.
You are there,
Always on my mind,
Whenever I am awake.
I, a poet,
Know you so much now,
Spiritually mostly.
Your radiance,
Lights up my dim heart,
As it glows on your features.
Often have I,
Walked all by myself,
On these silent autumn roads.
And ere you,
Welcomed me into life,
I thought even I was autumn.
And liquor,
I tried to heal wounds,
Stabs of fate in my sad soul.
And cigars,
With their slow, smoky fumes,
Played a role like painkillers.
And then you,
Saw me in the mire,
And extended your helping arm.
I can't believe,
That I am safe now,
Yet God Almighty says so.
O pale-winged poetess,
You are a rare gem,
That still lies undiscovered.
But I say,
That I, with God's help,
Will make your concealed light shine.
And many,
Like me, seeking help,
Will also be rescued by you.
You are true,
To the deepest core,
Of the golden heart you have.
And I am,
Grateful to Allah,
For making us come closer.
And one day,
I am most certain,
You will glisten ethereally.
And that day,
Will I be ever glad,
To have proved your real worth.
This world will,
Then feel different,
And bask in the glow that's you.
