Spellbound Poem by Naveed Khalid

Know ye not how I my days hath spent,
divided by night, half so blind in ill-omen,
of measured distance from afar this world;
lo! erased of looks so fair to my mind still,
my age-old love in nurslings of immortality,
the setting sun by the west wind in autumn,
too deep for woe that by time's effacing hand,
hath cast that arrow, full of venomous pride:
ah! awhile but to think on thee o'er the wall on high,
some such snowflakes of violet blues in the grey evening,
his roman blood of royal lineage in much too wreckage of a nerve,
leaves behind a strained note of unletter'd ink upon the matted floor.

(C) Naveed Khalid

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Date Created: Thursday, June 11,2015 10: 4: 16 PM