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I Love the Blossoms that Withered

I love the blossoms that withered
Petals rived thrown to winds
Fragrances all palsied and shattered
Garden’s hopes drowned in chagrin
Dreams unripe and not mature
Their beauty diffused in blood and gore
Broken images rolled in rancor
Souls smashed, callously battered

I love the guitar with broken strings
Its fragmented symphony blown, pared
Like a hunted dove’s smashed wings
And songs with broken notes now nowhere
Airs that died before their charm was writ
‘Along a liquid sky’; candles blown out, bright and lit
A hundred stars plucked and thrust
Left smothering to laments, in dust

Submitted: Sunday, June 23, 2013
Edited: Friday, July 26, 2013


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Poet's Notes about The Poem

...dedicated to all souls who were deprived of existence in Quetta blast and many other like this
(I took inspiration from a poem by Robert Bridges)

Comments about this poem (Aging by Yasmeen Khan )

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  • Farah Ilyas (6/23/2013 12:54:00 PM)

    Airs that died before their charm was writ...heart touching poem, perfect match of emotions & diction made by u, astringent fact.

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  • Aftab Alam Khursheed (6/23/2013 9:52:00 AM)

    The blast has shown How we are I hate to call them Muslims

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