Family Trauma Poem by Naveed Khalid

I'll not let myself be swayed by this feeling
of broken mast-shaft at north,
too drear from out of the blues in still waters;
that in meek hours of the night my shipwrecked dreams,
ah, of our parting looks so fair at sunset of the evening sky
against the world of thy most high deserts,
too deep for woe to beweap my outcast state forlorn;
for death's toll is too high, let this waking hour pass:
away from out of sight that day of unaltered eye,
I most my heart hath fed in nurslings of immortality,
that crow's quill of worthier pen born in thy graceful ease
to eternal bliss upon the sand dunes by thee alone,
oft leaves me in dismay her most ardent desire of eyes so blind,
a foul fawning bay at my door with pen-pricked angels,
so full rich content of some vulgar paper to rehearse
e'ery flower upon a barren heath in my bed of crimson joy.


(C) Naveed Khalid

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Date Created: Tuesday, April 14,2015 6: 38: 00 PM