I love thee not by the world,
that by a shadow hath fled;
but by the heart I suck more,
a sponge of feelings, cold and numb,
a love note by the bed can move me no more;
nor in restless stars of the mirror,
I behold thee run wild through blood in veins,
a vocal rage against all the panorama,
pack'd in the delirium of thy dream,
many a roses are spread in vain,
and vain is the word upon the window-pane,
of cut-out hearts in the tree, of love's departed song:
this sky, this earth, this wall our common grave.
(C)Naveed Khalid
Copy Rights (C)2012.
All Rights Reserved.
Date Created: Friday, December 21,2012 12: 37: 58 AM
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem