Naked Storm Xl Poem by Sadiqullah Khan

Ride the naked storm
Sublimation's the art's archaic brush,
Cut to size
The incoherence of your speech makes
Me believe, that I am not wrong, altogether.

A tyrant was pulled out of gutter,
Another dragged. Don't you see the mirror?
Men of roped heads. These prisoners whom you tied,
Like sheep, and caged like ‘chickens in cold winds'.

I am born free,
From a thousand and one whispers, when united
A cry is born, a shout is created
A right is asked. Trembling legs in gradual succession
Make tremors, and the earth shakes.

You did not invent
A swan song for yourself and upon my mercy
You had been the sucker of blood, a leech, a parasite.

Sadiqullah Khan
Islamabad
September 16,2014.