Under the waning moon,
Hearing nothing,
But your voice reverberating,
Softly and lovingly,
Echo all around in the room,
I get the feeling,
That you are always with me.
A world of sleeping people,
And I passing the hours,
With the usual surge of sadness,
Beyond reason and without cause,
Rushing in on me like a wild boar,
Dying to kill me, driving its horns,
Into the tattered regions of my heart.
There is no consolation,
For the ache gripping me slowly,
I am at a loss, a complete loss,
As I keep trying to figure out,
Why I am engulfed by sorrow,
And what caues it to burrow,
Deeper and deeper into my heart.
What unforgivable sins have I commited,
In the karmic journeying of my soul,
From one realm to another?
There is no convincing answer --
-- Just the moonlight seeping in,
I think I can relate my own state,
With its dark and hidden side.
We are both bleeding,
From the stabs of subconscious pain,
And yet we keep doing our duty,
As charted out by our Creator,
Daily, in the same silent mode.
The sleepy states of rest and peace,
Are not written in our fate-orbits.
And our dark and unseen wounded sides,
Are not known to any one but us,
And the Master Writer of our destinies.
I am out of sync with most of this world,
And its people, lost in their slumber.
From where have I come?
And why does the nightly sadness,
Loves to play with my heart?
I ponder and ponder,
And it only becomes harder and harder,
To tune into harmony,
And sleep like the rest of humanity.
From my youthful years,
It has always been like this.
I am seeking good rest and peaceful repose,
But all I get is deafening silence.
Till the blue hue of dawn spreads,
My being is unable to go to bed,
And make a pact with rest and sleep.
It is the hidden mystery inside me,
Which, like the quiet moon,
Longs for a companion to soar with me,
Beyond time and space, the souls flying,
Back to the dimension we really belong.
(Written and posted by Muhammad Naveed Ahmed/Emmenay,
on September 19, 2011).
Sir Poet you sure you didn't really mean ............
'Seeking my real Dementia' here? grins like an ornery heathen!
beautiful poem no doubt but you know I had to rib you and try to drag you out of that blue funk you are referring to. Aim your heart's eye to gaze upon happiness not perpetually on the sadness. When you commune with God does inner peace not come to sit with you? Sometimes we allow ourselves to become victims to our thoughts. Your soul I'd be willing to bet ( if I were indeed a betting woman and I am not but anyway) is a joyous being. Your sad thoughts just drown it out many times. Choose to count your blessings not your woes and it wouldn't kill you to occasionally tell your maudlin thoughts to shut their whining yap once in a while. From your poems I can tell you are such a tough guy so why not show those down in the doldrums thoughts who's boss? My money is on you............. you know who!..........so why type it? laughs.