Naeem Rahman

(03/02/1993 / Bangladesh)

The Stone

I heard them,
heard them all,
I have seen them,
seen them all.

So cold,
they were so cold!

The rose beneath I,
decayed as I tried,
tried to lift it for light.

It was too late.

Oh, Fate!
you are No more to blame!
It was me and my name.

Dry it became
in this very
vast frame.

The color faded away
as night turned darker,
but never day.

The birds cried
over the rose, silently
yet they echoed-
echoed to me endlessly.

Those hums, those voices
were slaughterers,
I lost what I had and
there was blood.

Blood on my hands!
I seized that away,
that sorrow,
that grief.

Forgive me not for
I have no mercy but anguish,
it has embraced me.

I cannot shed
that tear anymore
for this heart of mine
has turned to stone.


Submitted: Thursday, March 14, 2013
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