I Know What Is It Poem by Abdul Wahab

I am not at peace
At all

Your sweet words
And the soft touch

Of the breeze
Could not make me pleased

Neither the tub of your love
Could bathe me

Or the cool glass of your laugh
Could satiate me

I remain thirsty!

Nor your dazzling beauty
Could give me any stability

Something drives me
From behind

The same thing beckons me
From the front

I am totally restless!

Writhe in pain
Cut into thousands

No blood oozes
No one can see

This is not a disease
Nether any psychological problem

Yet I suffer!

It may not appear
much logical

But this is true
And I know what is it

For name
All they cry

But I never tell them
By its name.