The Prolonged Noons Of Loneliness Poem by Muhammad Shanazar

In the prolonged noons of loneliness,
And in the scorching sun,
Are the melting roads,
And two loathsome tired eyes.
Gaze into the vacancy.

A few moments ago,
There was hustle bustle,
The jostling crowed on the same spot,
Where now the amuser under the shady tree,
Is dozing, resting his head,
On the filthy bag of gadgets of his art.

Lives are deserted spots of amusement,
On the desolate roads lay,
The sold bodies that inhale the borrowed breaths,
The prayers of the heart-mender only reach,
The broken doors of the ruined city of dreams,
They knock but returned void of charity.

Some in the game of Your consent,
Have woven the mesh,
For the stunned scared characters,
In the arranged spectrum of horror,
The so-called lofty lords,
Award time to time the undemanded pause,
Unbidden breaths, and paralysed day and nights,
The entire scheme is merged,
In the deep remembrance of death:
Ceaseless death,
Awake! And you too think in the spectrum,
Of your ancient thoughts,
In the prolonged noons of loneliness.
For they may shake the veins of life.