A Gothic Romance Poem by Usman Hanif

She calls me;
in the voice of her own
she whispers;
the catastrophic tales,
the devastation so serenely,
that the war seems to be a bliss
and she calls my name...

She calls my name;
under the warm wax
of the burning candle
her subtle silhoutte
drops with the melting light
The flame flickers with the whispers
and the whispers dance with the flame
I watch the dance of the candle
and she calls my name...

She calls my name;
from far deep depths of the grave
Her tombstone gurgles
the woice of her own self
Six feet deep her corpse breathes
and she calls my name...

She calls my name;
in her grungy voice
Her voice is rich
with the aroma of camphor
I feel the death before
and she calls my name...

She calls my name;
and the earth buries the trees inside
The eerie light is always so still
with the mists adding more to the calmness
Her voice disrupts the silence
and she calls my name...

She calls my name;
with the hovering shadows
the shadows that live with her existance
Her voice is like the glow
the cemetery glows with her brightness
The devils stop annoying the preachers
her voice makes everything still,
so still that i wish to be always here
like the dead oak
who is the part of the whole scene
who could feel her voice
whose roots wake up on her calling
and grip him more firmly to the earth
But after all, he's a dead oak
neither am i alive
only her voice lives
and her calling keeps me alive
and she always calls my name...

03-07-08