Treasure Island

Farrah Zafar

Late hours of the Last Night

Ah! Now It's time,
to pack the memories,
carefully and skillfully,
make their summaries,

Should I pack all stuff?
Refined one or even rough?

Daring and decisive, December's night,
wrong is wrong, right is right!

How it feels to fall from the height?
Many times, I challenged the might!

Who could see?
When my words wept,
For me, on their theft.

A crowd of coward critics,
patted the thief,
Alone was my grief.

A part of 'Me' is missing,
And distance is hissing,
On my hands, on my hands,
Tears are kissing.

It hurts to fall down,
Once, twice, thrice,
It hurts to fall down.

When pessimism growls,
I hate its howls,
But it can't break me,
Or even shake me.

Fears, failures, fret and pains,
'Hope' runs in my veins.

I look into the bag of memories,
Oh! It's too heavy to carry
Shouldn't it be reduced?
Well, it must be reviewed.

Merry memories should be kept,
They keep the traveller intact,

Luggage is ready, I'm steady,
The Melancholic Memories,
Must be over thrown.

Come on! No need to mourn,
Past is past, it's gone,
Move on, move on, move on!

Submitted: Monday, August 05, 2013
Edited: Monday, August 05, 2013

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