Coming Of The Fall Poem by kawsar khaleel

Floods in wandering
Trickle down the cheeks
Once melrose...
Grey and ashy gone
One alluring spirit
Came eyes shut and went unnamed
Sawing of labour with't pricks, but
Where's he to keep, to hug
Close to her bosom
Shrouded in the domes
Lies a spring to take
Covert by crisp rolled leaves
From the bed
The mewing do comes yet
And crawling existence has
Lost its hiss
To obliterate the crevasse
Tis a mere oblivion
For an unhatched bud
Unblossomed!
Wasn't a bondman
To that cruel decline
Make'er seduced soul
No one to kindle
As must be