Miles I walked…

Miles I walked holding her hand — known what happiness feels like,
I chatted all the way – days were not ours but nights seemed so bright;
Wiser I felt — sage she made me feel — when all those were said (I had to say),
Sudden she left me — unprotected — unwanted, without saying why but in decay.

Miles I walked holding her hand — unaware of what sorrow she could bring,
Heaven were her touches once — like poison now she crawls beneath my skin;
Oh! Through the journey I have learnt, her being was the sorrow that guided me,
She was the misery I walked with — towards my certain demise — my destiny.

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Holding your hand…

If there is a bit of possibility leftHolding hands
or even a grain of sand like hope

          I will be holding onto that
          that someday,
          may be someday

holding your hand —
your fingers firmly locked with mine
we will walk towards the horizon.
On the other side of the horizon
a life waiting for us
a life — once we dreamt together.

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KaziMustakim_All Rights Reserved © 2017

Art of Scars

Girl 4

Seeing an unfathomable darkness
from the cracks of her sparkling eyes,
he dove in and there he met her scarred
— vulnerable self and the beauty of her
broken heart which he was completely
unaware of, and he couldn’t restrain
himself from falling — for
The art of scars she bears beneath
her skin…

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KaziMustakim_All Rights Reserved © 2017

Cluster of Thoughts

You are my salvation
through limitless love
and unendurable pain…

 

In a split second distance
I breathe the same air you take in
and that is how I have you
inside me, for now and a lifetime…

 

Time heals the wound
slowly and painfully but it does
only leaving a scar behind
to tell a broken story…

 

No matter how much I try
I cannot reach you
so I am sending my soul out
of this mortal cage
to meet yours
through the air to your lungs
through dreams in your sleep
through tears crawling down your cheeks
through music to your heart
through death to your life…

 

KaziMustakim_All Rights Reserved © 2017

Fragments from lone hours

And I close the door of my darkened chamber; I sit-
(midst of my four-walled confinement)
Beside fire- heaving a sigh of relief- Numb. Then hours fled-
My inanimate world comes to motion; commence with the recall of-
Forgotten past in an undignified manner. Faces arouse in suspicion-
From a curtained bitterness;
And I listen to those unheard voices from many years back,
All those symphonies which counts no one no more.
Slowly and softly my flattered thoughts embark on a saddened ride,
And the stormy wind outside turn into a grieving companion,
Rains strengthen its piercing arrows hurting upon the window glass
-in a sinful excitement,
And that is when all the noises turned off- like none of them ever existed
Quicker the foot steps of the last pedestrian dwindle away from nearby road,
Leaving a loner behind in solitude.
The enthusiasm in the fiery flames deaden quietly,
And a cold silence wrap me up. I crawl into the bed and no sound I make
I dare not awaken the ghosts from the dreamless slumber of night.
So I close my eyes-
But I hear again somewhere near a lost wind bewailing.
Somewhere falls a broken branch crying aloud
I become so aware of my frenzied spines- my anesthetized being,
And then I fall into sleep-
Or I compelled to die . . .
Adieu! Cursed shadows- the dwellers within me.

© copyright protected 2013

Note: Last night when I truly was feeling so lost inside and I started writing the feelings . . . . .

The Dam-na-tion

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A memory in a crack disc- a thought so disdain ,
A silent fear trickles down with the dripping sweat –
Sometime a voiceless voice stir vigorously- the nervous system.
The crowd- a turmoil, and those impassive faces, cold disorder,
There’s no sign of regret- or returning from formlessness,
Imperceptible acknowledgement of impenetrable A mystery,
The stillness ran into a riot-a massive destruction- a chaos,
Refusal in tone- rather disclosure of an unknown submissiveness,
Such hatred foiled and crafted beautifully- disgraceful and a disposal,
And heart, becomes a receptacle for deceased feelings-
More oft the sky rains- to pour life into lives, to pacify the disorder,
but every time receded-
Softly, and very slowly in terrible anguish, disconcerted-
A terror- a fire ventured in- diminishing all desires from hearts,
And no souls have left salvaging themSelves from straying-
Dispatched in haste-
tremble when passing through treacherous winter,
Icy touch and then solidity, and then shuddering into pieces –
All efforts in tremor.
And then comes in exquisite manner
Compelled into-

The Dam-na-tion.

© copyright protected 2013

Fragmented thoughts from my diary . . .

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