Death: V Poem by Awsaaf Ali

Death: V



Contemporary words hath I evaded,
Sweared to swear thine,
Fo' the respect o' thee faded,
Throwed me, e'ry words o' fame thou lied,
Only for t'se blasphemious plight,
Curious cherishity o' mine birth hath taken,
Quiet blade o' thy palm, hath rest broken,
Unrelated bloods' related as blood,
Mates, masked t'en thy hath brought me to cut,
Tranquil drops o' life, heat kisseth, fast flow'th,
Taste o' t'se machetes, my body tast'th,
Final screams 'n my mouth, silence stuff'th,
Drops o' my own blood t'en blind'th me,
Lips o' thy blade seal my n'ck with t'at kiss,
Final beats o' my heart 'n thy hand pumpeth,
Mysterious reas'n attract'th my death.

Tuesday, March 25, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: Death
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Awsaaf Ali

Awsaaf Ali

Hyderabad, India.
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