I'm Leaving Poem by Quasir Hassan

A flash, green not so old
It was a cry, and cries of cold

Not a reverie nor a dream
What is said, is a real scene

The cry was the cry of a lily frail
Withering and wailing for drizzle or hail!

Amidst the dark, some hubbub was heard
Followed those; who abhorred and admired!

In throes of death, soul shrieked!
Jaws moved unheeded!

Some kneeled to kiss the feet..
Some sighed and some weep

Hands froze, lips strove to speak...
I'm leaving, I'm leaving